The Kamelion Trail
by MountainLord-92
Summary: After defeating his original nemesis the 13th Doctor hopes to settle down for some more relaxed adventures. He does not take into account the gentlemen wanting revenge for his foiling of their scheme to take over UNIT, and then he picks up a message from a dead Time Lord, The Informant, alerting him of a shape changing android creating chaos wherever it goes.
1. Prologue: The Jade War

**WARNING - This is a sequel. It is probably a good idea to read 'The Long Regeneration' first as this will introduce the main characters along with a couple of underlying themes that may be confusing to a new reader.**

**Disclaimer: I **_**do**_** own Doctor Who and all the characters related to it, the only things I don't own are the OCs of my own inven... hang on.**

* * *

No one saw them coming, no one predicted their coming, but they were here. The countless red dots on the screen swarmed like angry locusts, surrounding the green dots which quickly disappeared. Frantic orders echoed around the ship, he followed through as quickly as he could but he knew that it was futile. This was an attack of great planning. Somehow Tri-corps had known that this was where all the freighters would be, somehow they had known that there would only be very few battleships in the area to defend them.

The operator spotted another red dot flying towards the green dot which he knew signified the ship that he was operating on, and shouted a warning. The pilot, to his credit, performed the necessary evasive manoeuvre but the ship still took heavy damage from the incoming fire; the freighter just wasn't designed to withstand this sort of attack. His instincts told him to run to an escape pod before it was too late, but the ingrained discipline prevented him from leaving his post; even if he did run he would probably be killed as a deserter before he could get anywhere. The ship shook again as more fire smashed into the hull, warning sirens echoed throughout the bridge.

All around he could see the reactions of the crew, some had been sent flying by the previous barrage, others were crying and many were just staring emptily into space like he was. They all knew that they were going to die and there was nothing that they could do about it. He watched as several more red dots on his screen flew towards their ship. He didn't even bother to shout a warning this time, he just closed his eyes and started to pray. Images of the girl back on his home planet flashed across his mind, the one he had promised to marry when he returned, that wouldn't happen now, that was just another dream destroyed by the horrors of this war. The unknown projectiles hit and the entire ship burst open, sucking all the air out and killing him and all his fellow crew members instantly.

Tensions had always been high between the Star Galactic and Tri-corps mining corporations. To be fair, tensions were always high between massive mining corporations such as these, there was a lot of money up for grabs and whenever one company got a taste of this wealth they would become even more greedy for more and would start invading other territories and then clash with another company that was already there. But Star Galactic and Tri-corps hated one another. It wasn't just the standard rivalry motivated by greed, it was also down to the respective leaders' mutual dislike of one another.

Luckily they had been careful to avoid one another in the business market, knowing full well that any meetings would result in disastrous destruction for both sides, but there had been no chance of avoiding one another here.

Jade ore had been discovered on a remote asteroid by a royal scouting craft along with significant evidence that there could be more in the immediate system. This ore was like gold to the various mining corporations around the galaxy, it could be used as fuel for spaceships, it could power weapons and shield generators, in fact it could be used to power most things and much more efficiently than the standard energy sources. There was no ignoring this treasure trove, all companies rushed to the system to set up their equipment, including Star Galactic and Tri-corps. It didn't take long for there to be a violent clash between the two rivals and an even shorter time for it to degenerate into all out war; no one can agree as to who struck the first blow.

Captain Fllat commanded one of the few battleships that the Star Galactic held in the sector and, because of this, he had a much better view of the battle than the operator on the freighter. The freighters were completely enclosed like submarines so had to rely completely on the sensors to see what was going on around them, the battleships had large viewing windows allowing those inside a direct view of the outside.

Fllat was a bipedal reptilian creature, an unique species in the corporation, almost a cross between a crocodile and some sort of insect. He had great tree trunk like legs and thick, strong, armoured arms with stubby, yet still sharp, claws on the end of stubby fingers. His tail was flat and segmented like a centipede, this continued as armour up his back until it finished as his flat head. His head was flat and square and very odd to look upon. It reared up from his body like a snake, there was no clear mouth but his eyes were big and round and on the end of short stalks at the top of his head. He was dressed in red, flowing robes, which seemed a contradiction to his aggressive physical features.

He watched as the swarms of Tri-corps fighters swooped across the sector firing blasts of energy at the opposition ships. Countless freighters burst open under the strain, spilling their precious cargo of bright green Jade ore. They dazzled like green stars until the Tri-corps ships swooped over and greedily sucked them up like vacuum cleaners.

"Sound the evacuation order," Fllat ordered, recognising that the battle was lost. As he said this the back of his head opened up to reveal a mouth full of sharp teeth, it made it seem as if he head was on back to front. "Set up a transmission to the Hand of Thrawt," he added as the crew hurriedly sent out the evacuation order to the remaining ships in the area.

The ship rocked under the impact of another blast but they were confident that they would escape in time. Either way the rest of the corporation would learn what had happened here and would be on hand to deal with the mole that had leaked this precious information to Tri-corps.

* * *

The Star Galactic's many military contracts had allowed them access to a lot of military research which, coupled with the huge profits produced by these contracts, allowed them to build some of the most powerful battleships in the galaxy. The largest of these was the Hand of Thrawt, a very powerful dreadnaught that also acted as an ore processor. The main deck teemed with life, with many different species either working as an operator on this huge command deck or having to pass through in order to get to their station.

It was even busier than normal on this day, workers from across the entire ship were gathering on this deck because they had heard what had happened to the freighters in their supposedly secret hiding place, and rumour said that the man responsible for this was going to be brought to trial here and now. A few leading members of the corporation were present (Captains Fllat, Zipp, and Chairman Woov) suggesting that this was indeed a serious matter. But no one knew for certain until the large screen on the main wall flickered and changed to an image of the leader of the Star Galactic, Grand Baron Thrawt, then they all knew for certain. He never appeared anywhere in person, always appearing on a screen like this or as a hologram. In this position on the wall, and with the size of the screen, he sat as a very imposing figure, almost like a king looking down on his subjects. He was undoubtedly going to act as the judge for a trial.

He would have been an imposing figure even if he wasn't towering over everyone on a massive screen with his noble, patrician features. Only his top half was visible so that while he looked humanoid, he could easily have hundreds of spider like legs and no one would have known. His eyes were completely black, he had no ears and his teeth were sharp and pointy but only visible when he opened his lipless mouth. His skin was grey and had grooves etched across it, making it look a bit like the bark of a tree, which continued vertically across the top of his bald head.

"Bring him in," he intoned.

On cue the double doors at the opposite end of the room slid open and a group of armed thugs strode in. Casually strolling in amongst them was one man, he looked human but that didn't prove anything, unarmed yet didn't act as if he was there against his will. He wore mud brown trousers and brown boots that went halfway up his thighs, a reddish brown jacket with a long flowing tail that he had unbuttoned to reveal a plain black t-shirt underneath. His brown hair was closely cropped and his face clean shaven, his eyes sparkled green with mischief and joviality. He waved at the crowds and winked at certain insectoid species.

"I am honoured by this turn out," he said when he was brought into position in front of the officers and below Thrawt. "Although I notice Rabkar isn't here."

"He is busy sorting out the mess that you caused, Informant," Fllat spat.

"Really?" The Informant blinked in surprise. "I wouldn't have thought that a Captain of his standing would have to unblock the toilet on deck 53 personally."

"We are not here to discuss your bouts of diarrhoea," Thrawt said tiredly, "it is your corporate espionage that we are more interested in."

"Just to make things clear," the Informant said, "I never pretended to be on your side, I am a tradesman, I was always invited on board to buy and sell information. I never planted bugs or broke into secure areas to gain any of the information, it's your own fault for having private conversations in front of me. So if anyone should be blamed it should be Woov, not me."

They all turned to stare at the sheepish chairman. "That isn't the point," Thrawt boomed, "you still leaked vital information to the enemy, information that cost us fifteen freighters, all the jade they were carrying, and hundreds of lives."

"Yes but apart from all that, what have I actually done?" the Informant questioned.

"You are a spy," Thrawt stated. "And this is a war, all spies shall be executed."

"Now hang on a minute," the Informant protested. "I never pretended to be on your side, I came to you as an independent so in what way am I a spy?"

"You will not talk your way out of this," Thrawt stated, "we took you into our trust and you betrayed it."

"Ok, could you not sentence me just yet," The Informant requested. "Only, if you are indeed going to kill me, I had better check in with Tri-corps first."

"So that you can betray us again?" Thrawt exclaimed.

"No, so that they get the chance to pass their sentence first," he answered. "Doesn't seem fair that you should get the chance to kill me first when I have betrayed them a lot more times than you."

"It is not wise to make jokes when your life is in the palm of my hand," Thrawt snarled.

"Oh so that's why this ship is called the Hand of Thrawt," the Informant giggled. "I suppose that makes this place the Palm."

"Enough!" Fllat snarled. "Just kill him!"

There was a murmur of agreement amongst the assembled crowd which slowly raised in volume until it was exactly like an audience at the colosseum baying for blood. The guards cocked their weapons and turned to point them at the Informant, making him realise how little time he had left to find a way out of this. The one saving grace was that Thrawt hadn't said anything, and no one would dare do anything without his leave, he just sat at his desk staring down at the masses impassively. The Informant found this quite unsettling though, in fact he found everything about Thrawt unsettling, a man who refused to appear anywhere in person, _even_ on his own ship, clearly had something to hide; and he had a feeling that it was something very sinister. Even so, he was going to cling onto this lifeline for all its worth, and buy himself some time.

"Now hold on a second!" He exclaimed. "The big cheese hasn't said anything yet. For all you know he is going to acknowledge my crimes but recognise my talents in this field, and hire me to go on a mission to Tri-corps in order to pay back for the trouble I have caused."

They all paused and slowly turned to look up at the Grand Baron in anticipation. Thrawt himself said nothing, drumming his spindly fingers on the desk in front of him in thought.

"It is a very tempting proposal," Thrawt said eventually.

"But you are going to decline," the Informant finished, cleaning his ear casually. "Why am I not surprised."

"For all we know you already made that deal with Kcen, which is why you are here now," Thrawt replied. "I think it is best for everyone if we just bring your involvement in this war to a permanent end."

"It's funny you should say that," the Informant replied. "Kcen is obviously more of an entrepreneur than... What do you mean you can't get out?"

There was a brief murmur of confusion. One of the guards turned to give the captains a questioning look, they just shrugged in response. The Informant inclined his head and slapped his ear as if he were trying to shake sand or water out of the other one.

"You got in there ok," the Informant scolded, "you must be able to get out." He stopped and rolled his eyes at the big screen. "You can't get the staff these days."

"What exactly are you doing?" Thrawt snarled.

The informant ignored the question, he simply squeezed his nose and blew out through it as hard as he could. There was a subtle pop, and a mosquito was ejected out of each ear. They buzzed about dizzily for a few seconds before flying back to the Informant's side. Chairman Woov realised what they were and boomed with laughter.

"Is that your escape attempt?" the dog headed alien laughed.

"Laugh if you will, chairman," the Informant scorned. "Mosquitoes in themselves may not be particularly dangerous creatures, but I don't call them Dengue and Malaria for nothing."

Woov looked about in confusion. "What?" He questioned.

"They're infected with deadly diseases you idiot," Thrawt boomed.

"Give that man a coconut," the Informant smirked. He quickly made a buzzing sound followed by a couple of clicks with his tongue and the mosquitoes dived into action. They each shot at an unsuspecting guard and painfully bit them in the eye. The guards screamed and frantically tried to swat them, but they were too quick zigzagging through the air towards another target and then dummying to another one who wasn't expecting it. The Informant took advantage of this distraction to slam his fist into one of the bitten guards and snatch his weapon out of his hand. He then turned and slammed the barrel into the temple of a guard that had spotted him and was about to attack him, successfully knocking him out and then turning to shoot another.

"Enough of this!" Thrawt roared.

The Informant rolled his eyes, twisted and fired three shots into the centre of the screen. It flashed several different colours before going black. Everyone gasped in shock, the guards that were still standing froze in their attack and stared up at the screen in shock. The mosquitoes returned to the Informant's side on a commanding buzz.

"Right," he said, "now that he's not here let's discuss the skills that I have to offer you. You will of course be worried about me switching side again, but you need not worry..."

"Destroying the screen doesn't stop me from seeing and hearing you, moron!" Thrawt's voice echoed around the room.

"Oh... Well then you can hear about my offer to protect against Tri-corps' bribes," the Informant replied frantically.

"That will not be necessary," the Grand Baron boomed. "At arms!"

The sound of hundreds of guns being unholstered echoed around the room. The Informant looked left and right but he saw no way out of this one, there were too many. All of a sudden there was a flash of light above the Informant's head and a leather wrist strap appeared, along with a slightly confused looking fly. The strap immediately succumbed to the pull of the artificial gravity and the Informant caught it with a cry of triumph.

"Took your time," he said to the fly. He quickly pulled back a flap to reveal the vortex manipulator that had been confiscated from him almost the second he had been apprehended.

"No!" Thrawt shouted in anger, realising what it was.

The Informant grinned cheekily and pressed one of the buttons. He did not, however, disappear like most people had expected, instead a large cloud of flying insects appeared in front of him.

"Fly my pretties, fly!" he cried. The swarm immediately split and dive bombed the nearest victims, the mosquitoes buzzing after them. The Informant was forgotten as everyone frantically tried to hold the mass of insects at bay; he simply strolled to the nearest exit and walked out, closing the door quickly behind him.

The corridor that he strode down was completely empty save for himself and the fly that was flying around his head. "Well obviously I could have just teleported out of here," he said, strapping his vortex manipulator back to his wrist. "But where would be the fun in that? Besides, I'm never going to be able to come back here so I need to grab as much information as I can while I still have the chance."

He took a few more paces before pausing and glancing over his shoulder. The fly buzzed questionably. "I'm not sure," the Informant replied, "but I get the feeling that I'm being watched." His gaze caught a camera on the wall that was staring directly at him. He lifted up the pistol that he was still holding and fired a single shot to destroy it. "Paranoid bastard," he muttered. "The sooner we get out of here the better."

He kicked in the grill of a duct and ducked down to crawl through. It was a fairly tight squeeze, because ducts aren't designed to allow a person to crawl through, and the fly had to fly on ahead to be sure of avoiding being accidentally squashed by the Informant's body but they managed. Eventually they came to the room that the Informant had been looking for, the fly buzzed out and circled the room happily while the Informant pulled himself out less elegantly. After brushing himself down he hopped over to a terminal in a grey box fitted on the wall.

"Data recorder," the Informant explained, "all starships have one. It records all the data that the ship picks up along with all radio messages and actions that the crew take during flight. Very durable piece of kit, you could throw this through a black hole and still be able to read the data stored on it, means that if the ship goes down with all hands lost then investigators would be able to find out what happened by looking up the data on here." He produced a long wire from his jacket and plugged one end into the terminal and the other into his vortex manipulator. "Give it a couple of minutes and I will know everything that the Hand of Thrawt has done since its maiden voyage."

The fly didn't seem to be paying much attention, it was just buzzing up against the glass as if it was trying to fly through and couldn't understand why it wasn't. "What are you looking at?" The Informant asked.

He walked over to the window and gazed out at the field of fireflies that was space. "Depressing isn't it," he said. The fly landed on the window and buzzed a question. "If I was someone else, a Doctor perhaps, I would marvel at the wonder of all the stars and all the countless worlds and cultures that each one has, ask you to point at one and I would take you there. The reality is that half of those stars don't have habitable planets, life in the universe is a lot rarer than many would have you believe. And then of course there are all those that are actually dead." He traced an arc of stars with his finger. "Those went supernova a few centuries ago, but they still shine and will continue to do so for several millennia, deceptively suggesting that they continue to burn but the reality is that they are all dead. You may see hope and beauty when you gaze at the stars, but all I see is a thousand dead worlds, burning like funeral pyres. That is my curse, knowing too much about the universe and what has happened in it."

"Why don't you stop then?"

The Informant laughed bitterly. "What else would I..." He trailed off. Flies cannot speak, they only buzz. He twisted towards the sound of the voice. "Zipp?"

Captain Zipp, one of the officers on the main deck, was stood by the data recorder without a mark on his body; that fact becomes more odd when you realise that he is a human so more attractive to the mosquitoes than the aliens. He stood tall and proud in his smart uniform, dark skinned, black haired and with a neat moustache, but was smiling strangely in a way that the Informant had never seen him do before. The other strange thing about him, other than the fact that the mosquitoes hadn't tried to bite him at all, was that he had successfully managed to sneak up on the Informant. Normally he could feel a psychic presence of anyone who came within a certain distance of him, that made it very difficult for anyone to sneak up on him, but he had felt nothing. He cocked his head to one side and gently probed with his mind, but found nothing at all. He only knew of two things in the universe that didn't have minds that could be probed psychically, and humans were not one of them.

"You're not Captain Zipp," he said.

"I suppose," 'Zipp' continued, "the real question I should ask is: why don't you just take the data recorder with you? You know full well that 98.7% of the occupants on this ship want you dead, so you would have thought it would be more sensible to simply steal the data recorder and run."

The Informant clutched at his wrist and realised that it wasn't there again. In order to come over to the window he had unstrapped his vortex manipulator and left it on the data recorder meaning that 'Zipp' was stood in the way, he would have to talk his way out of this.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Well I'm not one of the 1.3%," the imposter answered.

"Yeah, I guessed that," the Informant snapped, "but who are you really? You're not Captain Zipp, that much is obvious."

"You got me," the imposter grinned manically. "I'm the Craxas."

"If you were the Craxas I wouldn't have mistaken you for a human," the Informant snapped. It was obvious that he wasn't the Craxas, there would have been a ship wide panic if he was; although that would have been because of the disease that was being spread not because of the Craxas itself. But if he wasn't the Craxas then that could only mean one thing. His hearts clenched with this realisation. The one thing he feared above all else.

"Android," he breathed.

'Zipp' continued to smile manically. "Not just any android," he drawled.

His entire skin suddenly began to shimmer, not just his skin actually, his clothes and his hair too began to shimmer. Tiny individual squares across his entire body, like the pixels on a television screen changed colour at random, some turning red then back to the original tone, others green then back to the original tone. Slowly each square flickered and went out, like a television being turned off. Eventually the image of Zipp had disappeared and the true android was revealed.

It was like a human but far skinnier and shorter than average, and with pistons on the knees and elbows to allow it to lengthen them and shorten them to make it seem taller or shorter when it needed to; its chest was also able to expand, making it appear fatter or thinner or giving the appearance of breasts. The design was very sleek and smooth, almost brand new and completely black, the only colour coming from the machines red eyes. Long tentacles sprouted from the top of its head like hair, they were also completely black apart from a red light on the end of each one.

"I am a Kamelion," it announced dramatically.

It was worse than the Informant had feared. He couldn't stand androids. They were cold, emotionless, thus lacking imagination, he couldn't joke around with them, negotiate and he certainly couldn't overpower one if it came to fisticuffs. Not to mention the apparent trust so many people had for them when all it took was the alteration of one wire for it to turn against those that it had once worked for. Essentially, they are not alive by any stretch of the imagination, and yet are far more accepted into societies than many living species. Kamelions were the worst, he had never met one before personally, and their cult status suggested that they weren't actually real, just stories, but stood in front of him was a perfect demonstration of why they were the worst. They could infiltrate societies, pass themselves off as living and no one would know.

"I was lead to believe that you were travelling around under the protection of the Doctor," the Informant said, putting on a brave face.

The Kamelion's shiny black coat shimmered and then changed colour. Once all the tiny square pixels that made up its skin settled down the Kamelion looked like a completely silver android, with clumsy looking limbs, that looked like they were held on by the tube of a Hoover, its cranium was see-through, as was a circle on its chest , revealing flashing lights underneath.

"This model," the Kamelion pointed at itself and speaking with a completely new voice, "is the original. An ultimately flawed machine, hiding in the Doctor's TARDIS out of fear of being controlled by a sinister influence. It was destroyed after a titanic struggle between the Doctor and his oldest foe."

"Xkitor?"

"Ok, maybe he wasn't his oldest foe," the Kamelion admitted, returning to its true appearance, and Zipp's voice. "I, however, am a far more advanced model. After five further attempts, the creators were finally able to create the perfect Kamelion. I am able to take on a far greater range of appearances than the original, including the odd quadruped." It flickered and took on the appearance of a tiger, after leaning forwards onto its arms as if they were front legs.

"You even managed to create a tail for it," the Informant spotted, suitably impressed.

The tiger stood up on its hind legs like a human and quickly flickered back to the Kamelion's true form. "I am more durable than the previous five, and stronger willed. I am my own master, I follow my own destiny. I even have great imagination to rival that of a human."

"You'll forgive me for being sceptical," the Informant muttered.

"I have even fashioned a name for myself," the Kamelion continued regardless. "You can call me Shest."

"Well clearly not as good as an imagination as you thought," the Informant replied. "Shest? That's just Russian for the number six."

Shest's right hand suddenly shot forwards like a snake and clamped around the Informant's wrist in a vice like grip. The Informant howled in pain.

"Be careful what you say, Informant," Shest threatened. "You might make me angry." As he spoke the pixels across his body flickered to life, slowly making him take up the appearance of a young human. Fit but not a body builder, just average. But the transformation didn't stop there. As his speech continued, he slowly began to turn green and the muscles expanded, getting larger and larger. "And you won't like me when I'm angry."

"You shouldn't be doing this," the Informant said through gritted teeth. Shest continued to transform into the Incredible Hulk, maintaining his iron grip on the Informant's wrist. "Alright, alright!" The Informant screamed.

Shest finally released his grip and returned to his true form. The Informant slumped to the floor, clutching his wrist and moaning in pain. The fly took off in anger and shot towards the Kamelion, forgetting about the size difference and the lack of any sort of weapon. Shest transformed into a rather weedy looking kid and casually caught the oncoming fly between his thumb and forefinger.

"Hey look at that," he exclaimed as if seeking someone's approval. He then transformed into an elderly Chinese man, dressed like a janitor. "Beginner's luck," he spat and squashed the wriggling insect with an air of finality.

The Informant grimaced at this display of insect killing. Flies were very useful allies in many respects but could be incredibly thick at other times; he was going to have to give incredibly detailed instructions to the next one. That was if he ever got back to Earth to enlist another one.

"You shouldn't have been able to do that," he breathed. "There are laws, an android isn't supposed to harm humans."

"You refer to Asimov's three laws," Shest replied. "A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. A robot must obey the orders given to it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws. There's just one problem with that."

"And what's that?" The Informant asked nervously.

Shest changed into a thin woman dressed completely in white and had short brown hair. "The subject has many differences to the standard model, most interesting our these rogue strands of data in its brain, they allow it to ignore the three laws if it so chooses."

The Informant grimaced at this. "Why would anyone do that?" He exclaimed.

"I cannot say," the Kamelion shrugged, staying in character.

"Did Thrawt commission you?" The Informant inquired. "Are you to act as a spy for him?"

"On the contrary," Shest said. He transformed once again, this time into the spitting image of the Informant. "I am a free-agent, I don't work for anyone!"

"Could you stop doing that, it's really irritating!" The real Informant shouted.

Shest shrank into the form of a little boy, folded his arms and turned away slightly "Make me," he pouted.

The Informant growled and pulled himself to his feet, the pain in his wrist was still severe but it had receded a lot. "So, _six_," he said, emphasising the use of the number over its chosen name, "if you're a free-agent then what are you doing here at all? What could possibly interest an android on a warship like this? What interests an android _at all_, actually?"

Shest turned into a seductively dressed teenage female. "Wouldn't you like to know," she said coyly, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously.

"Thrawt doesn't know you are here does he," the Informant realised. He laughed at the sudden discomfort that Shest seemed to be showing. "You've just blown your cover for no reason. I wonder how Thrawt would react when he discovers that one of his most prominent officers is actually a shape changing android spy."

"I'm not spying on him," Shest insisted.

"No of course not," the Informant agreed. "As we previously established you have no real purpose other than to stand there pretending to be several people that aren't actually real. And you got the I Robot quote wrong."

Shest changed into a strong looking male and slammed his fist down on the Informant's vortex manipulator, the force of the blow causing the data recorder to fall off the wall. "I don't need to spy on him because he is already acting according to plan," he growled. "Yes, there is a plan, be quiet for a moment, this next bit is important. Along with my greater intelligence, range of shapes to transform into and the ability to ignore the three laws I can also travel through time. I can and will be able to integrate with many cultures across time and space completely unseen by all. Apart from by two people. You, and the Doctor, the last two Time Lords in existence."

The Informant suddenly understood why Shest had chosen to reveal itself to him. "You think that I will try to stop you," he said. Shest smiled his eerie smile, completely identical to the one he had pulled in Zipp's form. "Now, I don't see that that is really necessary. I may dislike androids on principle, but I will not object to your simple existence. In fact if you intend to mingle among many time zones I would happily hire you to act as a spy for me."

"I couldn't work with you, Informant," Shest smirked. "You are the enemy."

"But I haven't done anything to you," the Informant exclaimed.

"It doesn't matter what you have and haven't done," Shest stated. "This is a war of inevitability, and the Time Lords are the only ones who can stop me."

Shest balled up a fist and brought it up to strike the Informant in the face. The strike was lightning quick, too quick for any human to dodge. But in his keenness to kill the young Time Lord, Shest forgot that Time Lords were not like humans. The Informant used his natural link to the time vortex to slow time down from his point of view. Shest's fist continued on its arc at a much reduced pace and he casually ducked under it and rolled to the other side of the room, collecting his vortex manipulator on the way past.

He pressed buttons frantically and was delighted to discover that there was still some life left in it. It was heavily damaged and would require a lot of maintenance to restore some of the disabled settings, but there was enough power for one trip.

Shest twisted round and prepared to resume his assault. "Nice try, six," the Informant taunted, "but I'll be off now, if you don't mind." He pressed the required button and disappeared. He had no idea when or where he would dematerialise but at least he had escaped from that crazy android.

* * *

**The Kamelion Trail by MountainLord-92**

**Author's note: Welcome back to another story starring my future incarnation of the Doctor and the Mondasian cannibal, Broxa. We will follow a similar format to the Long Regeneration i.e. several shorter parts of roughly four chapters each and the odd double length arc, with an underlying theme.**

**First up: the Doctor takes on the mysterious gentlemen, and their separate attempts to kill him. Will they succeed where the assassins of Sundew failed? Or will he demonstrate exactly what makes him such a formidable foe? The only certainty is that in order to defeat them he must enter a the world of Marswamp and become a _Prisoner of War._  
**


	2. Part One: Prisoner of War

**Part one: Prisoner of War**

The shell spun through the air, exploding the instant it landed in the swamp and showering the nearby soldiers with mud and water. Other shells exploded nearby but none came as close to them as the first one. They listened out carefully for when the shelling would stop, for that was when they knew they had to charge. There was a horrible squeal as another company took a direct hit from a shell; the bull, the leader of the company, said a quick prayer in their honour.

The Kroagunns had been fighting this war for roughly a decade now, waxing and waning between dominance and hasty defence. For the first time in years it seemed that it would finally end, and that it would be them that came out victorious; thanks to their new alliance with an outside power.

The Kroagunns were like oversized frogs or toads, albeit only standing on heavily bent hind legs; their front legs were actually arms, short and stumpy with webbed hands. Their legs were heavily muscled and acted almost like springs, giving them the ability to jump incredibly high and far; their feet were webbed just like their hands. The average Kroagunn was no taller than the average human's breasts, but this was because its legs were almost always bent, if it extended them to their full length the Kroagunn would be much taller. They were dressed in a brown, black and grey, skin tight uniform that completely covered their arms legs and torso, leaving only their head, hands and feet visible. The skin that was visible was green with large patches of brown, acting as natural camouflage in the swamp setting; even better than their camouflage uniform. Their eyes were as large as tennis balls yet their nostrils and ear holes were almost invisible.

The sound of the shelling continued but it grew quieter as it became more distant. Soon it would be completely silent, and then they would charge. They clutched their rifles tightly, eyeing one another uneasily.

Almost as suddenly as it had started, the shelling stopped. There was no time to enjoy the silence. The bull croaked loudly, echoing the noise of others in the area, and all the troops jumped up and charged; adding their own battle cries into the cacophony of croaking. The lizards themselves were diving out of their hiding places, following their standard plan of shelling the Kroagunns and then charging while they were in disarray, but they hadn't anticipated this move from the Kroagunns. They charged from their hiding places expecting the Kroagunns to be in disarray, but instead they were met with the image of hundreds of Kroagunns flying through the air after mighty leaps and raining fire down on the lizards.

* * *

Deep in the heart of one of the nearby Kroagunn citadels sat a man, casually sifting through the files on the computer as if he belonged there. He was quite short, but still held an air of menace around himself, with short cropped, ash blonde hair and a matching beard; this casual untidiness was matched with the dirty, black hoodie and dark jeans that he was wearing. He hunched forwards in his seat, concentrating all his attention onto the screen in front of him, he didn't even look up when a Kroagunn entered.

The Kroagunn shifted about uncomfortably, clearly unsure as to how to gain the man's attention without causing him to fly into an angry rage; he was well known for that. He coughed lightly, the man continued working as if nothing had happened. The Kroagunn coughed again, though louder this time.

"You really need to do something about that cough you've got," the man said without looking up.

The Kroagunn was startled by this but quickly recovered. "Cane-"

"Use my real name," the man interrupted.

"I'm sorry?" The Kroagunn questioned in confusion.

"I tire of this game," the man said, turning a steely gaze on the Kroagunn for the first time. "Use. My. Real. Name."

"Baloshov?"

"No! My real name!" The man shouted. "Call me... Master."

"Master," the Kroagunn repeated.

The Master smiled evilly in contentment. "What news do you bring, Arrow?"

Arrow wasn't his name, it was his rank signifying his job as a scout and runner. The only reason for him to be in the citadel would be because he was relaying a message from the front line. "The 4th battalion has successfully overrun the lizard encampment at Lagox. We have captured many supplies including many of their big guns, many spadefoots are working to get them working for us, and... Look could you stop that tapping, it's really distracting."

The Master narrowed his eyes dangerously. His right hand, which had been tapping a continuous four beat rhythm, froze and reached into his hoodie like snake. "What did you say?" He said, his voice dangerously level.

"Nothing," the Arrow said frantically.

"You would try to tell _me_, what to do?" The Master exclaimed. He pulled a bulky metal rod out of his pocket and pointed it at the Kroagunn Arrow.

"No please," the Arrow pleaded. The Master pressed a button on the rod and a small dart shot out of the top, embedding itself into the Kroagunn's arm. He yelped in pain.

"Perhaps a few hundred years will teach you some more respect," the Master growled, tapping a few buttons on the rod and examining it closely, as if he was reading some important data on it.

"No wait!" the Arrow exclaimed. "There's more, we captured many prisoners at Lagox."

"So what?" the Master pointed the rod at the pleading Kroagunn and prepared to press another button.

"One of them wasn't a lizard!"

The Master froze at this revelation. "A Kroagunn?"

The Arrow shook his head. "A sentient mammalian creature, some sort of alien."

"Well why didn't you say so sooner!" the Master exclaimed. "Where is he now?"

"Down in the Pond," the Arrow responded, "with the rest of the prisoners."

The Master jumped to his feet and ran around the front of the desk. "I've been waiting for this moment for such a long time," he crooned.

"Ok, I'll leave you to it then," the Arrow said hopefully.

"Not so fast!" the Master's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I haven't finished with you yet."

The Arrow recoiled in fear. "Please Master! I have done you no harm."

"It's not about the harm you may or may not have done me," the Master snarled. "It is the questioning of my actions, your attempt to give _me_ an order. I am the Master, I take orders from no man."

"It wasn't an order, it was a suggestion," the Arrow pleaded.

"Oh no," the Master shook his head mockingly, "you're not talking your way out of this one."

Before the Arrow could plead any further the Master pressed the final button on the rod in his hand causing the arrow to fall to the ground clutching his head in extreme pain. The Master leered in contentment at the Kroagunn's pain, mercilessly keeping his thumb firmly pressed on the button of the contraption in his hand. The Arrow shook violently, almost as if his every action were being fast forwarded, making it difficult for any observer to make out any details of what was actually happening. Eventually the Master relented and released the pressure on the button.

The Arrow panted heavily, as if he had just run a marathon. Under the onslaught of that mysterious attack he seemed to have aged several years. His skin sagged hideously as if it were suddenly too large for his body, its colour was faded, and an unsightly liquid leaked from his eyes; one of which had gone milky white. He tried to regain his footing but found that he no longer hand the strength to stand on his two feet, he was forced to remain on his knees, holding himself upright with shaky arms. He brought up a fraying hand to examine his face in disbelief.

"There you are then," the Master said cheerfully. "You older and wiser. You may have to retire but at least you have learnt your lesson."

With that the Master strolled out of the room, leaving the Kroagunn to crawl his way out.

* * *

The coffin was unloaded from the hearse, slowly and respectfully, and lifted up onto the shoulders of four men. It was only going to be a simple ceremony at a small church in East Croydon, no big fuss made; it was what she would have wanted. The majority of the congregation were already inside, only a select few stood outside to witness the coffin's arrival. This wasn't unusual, those closest to the deceased often stand to see them arrive. What was unusual was that they were all teenagers, especially when you considered that the deceased had been in her 50s.

Luke Smith, Clyde Langer, Rani Chandra and Maria Jackson, the Bannerman road gang. Luke stood on the far left, he was tall and thin with light brown hair. Clyde was black and had very short black hair, he was normally the joker of the pack, but today even he was in solemn silence. His left hand gently clasped the right hand of a tall slender Asian girl: Rani. Next to her stood Maria, the founding member of the gang had been living in America for the last three years, she had made the long journey especially for the funeral. She was shorter than Rani, slightly chunkier, though no less attractive, had very pale skin and curly, shoulder length, black hair. All were dressed smartly and solemnly Unbeknownst to them the driver of the hearse was analysing them all closely. He was a heavily built man in a smart suit, his dark hair and beard going grey. This plan had been several years in the making, he had had to explore every possible angle so he knew the threat that those teenagers posed. A knock on the window knocked him out of this train of thought. It was a woman, mid twenties at a guess, she had long blonde hair and was tall and thin, although she had a very plain face.

"My, my," the gentleman said. "Adriana Petrescu, what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied with a slight Polish accent.

"UNIT has always had an interest in miss Smith's life," he replied casually. "I am more intrigued as to why someone like you would be here."

"I was under the impression that UNIT, as an organised wing of the army, didn't exist anymore" she persisted suspiciously.

"It doesn't," he replied bitterly. "Torchwood holds all of our power, we are trying to get it back but Torchwood being Torchwood refuses to talk to anyone. You still haven't answered my question, by the way."

Adriana looked down sadly. "She tried to help me," she said. "She was the one who sent me to you."

"Ah I see," the gentleman nodded thoughtfully. "You should probably get inside, the service will be starting soon."

She looked up and noticed that even the gang had turned to make their way into the church. The gentleman felt a crackle of electricity across one of his hands, completely involuntarily, he flexed his fingers nervously, it was not often that he lost control like that. It was Adriana that was causing it, he wanted to kill her so much. She was stood there completely unaware of the danger that she was in, no one was watching, it would be so easy to blast her with his natural electrical energy, watch her back arch from the pain, her face contort as her heart stopped. His hand crackled again, bringing him back to reality. It would cause more suspicion if she disappeared than the minor suspicion that she already had. She gave him one last cool look before making her way over to the church.

"She's too clever for her own good," the gentleman stated when he was sure that she was out of earshot. There was a flash of green and the man beside him transformed back into his true form. "What are you doing?!"

"The human form is so dry," the Kroagunn moaned.

"If someone see's you the whole plan is ruined!" The gentleman exclaimed. "We didn't share with you our shape shifting technology for fun!"

"Human's are odious," the Kroagunn moaned. "How can you stand it?"

"Because it is integral to the mission," the gentleman replied. "Return to your human form, now!"

The Kroagunn stared back defiantly. The gentleman raised his hand and made it crackle with green electricity. The Kroagunn bowed his head and flashed green as he returned to his human form. The gentleman nodded in satisfaction and closed his hand into a fist, cutting out the electricity.

"No sign of the Doctor yet," he commented, "and the fleshkind child seems to have disappeared... No wait, there it is."

A young girl, not much older than thirteen, with long, light brown hair sprinted down the side of the church. They watched her in silence until she had disappeared inside the church.

"Are you sure the Doctor will come?" The Kroagunn asked.

"He will be here," the gentleman assured him. "There is no way that the Doctor will miss the funeral of Sarah-Jane Smith."

* * *

Deep in the bowels of the citadel was the Pond. It was a huge individual room, damp and smelly, barely illuminated by dim yellow lights, housing hundreds of prisoners. The Master strode purposefully through the middle, searching for the one alien amongst them. He passed many lizards, chained to the walls by their wrists which held them in a standing position, ankle deep in fetid water and with a mask over their nose and mouth. The mask was like an oxygen mask, with a tube leading out of it and up into the cavernous ceiling, however this mask had a far more sinister purpose. This was a torture device, the mask would fill up with water, thus preventing the victim from breathing, and after an agonising period would empty and allow air in, long enough to allow the victim to catch his breath and so avoid dying, but not long enough for them to fully recover.

The Master came to a stop in front of a prisoner that was drastically different to the rest. He was smaller, less heavily muscled, and was a mammal based life form; in fact he looked human. He was chained to the wall and had a mask over his mouth and nose, like the rest, fortunately the lizards had very human like faces so no modification was required to fit the mask. His dark hair was wet and matted and half his clothes were missing, his bare chest was hairy and covered in bruises, he had a mottled scar just above the waistline of his brown trousers. On his feet were a pair of black boots, not dissimilar to the ones the Master was wearing.

The man sensed the Master pausing in front of him and lifted his head to see what was going on. The second he took in the Master's features he recoiled in shock.

"That's right _Doctor_," the Master smirked. "I'm back!"


	3. Prisoner 2

_Earth_

It was a beautiful archway etched into the stone, it may have once been a window but had long since been bricked up. A tall man of a wiry build was stood in front of it, staring at it admirably. He was dressed in brown trousers which were tucked into the sides of black combat boot, on his top half was a strange jacket that seemed to be a brown leather cowboy jacket with loose strands of leather dangling off it, when viewed from the back, but the front was like a waistcoat, cream and with purple swirls neatly sewn in. To finish the look he had a wide-brimmed, cream, trilby on the top of his head. His hair was brown and covered his face, as well as the top of his head, as a tangled beard and moustache. He was the Doctor, the thirteenth, and last, Doctor.

He pulled out a penknife from his trouser pocket and flicked open a blade made of gold. Using the golden blade he carefully scraped a few flakes of stone off the arch into the palm of his other hand, he lifted it up to his nose and sniffed it.

"Yes," he said to himself, "this will be compatible. I'll be able to recreate this in the console room perfectly. 12th century I think, good century, not quite as good as the 17th, less buckling the swash and fine dancing, although better bawdy sing-alongs in the 12th. And of course it has nothing on the fourth."

"What happened in the fourth?" A female voice queried.

"People drive their cars _on_ it," he replied, "not in it. It's a bridge that spans the Forth estuary..." He slowly trailed off. Normally he had a companion that followed him around, sometimes they would ask questions when he mentioned something that piqued their interest. It was only half way through answering that he remembered that Broxa, his current companion, was currently in the middle of London, learning how to pass herself off as a human. So if it wasn't her that was talking to him, then who was?

He twisted round to behold a young girl, no older than thirteen, with long, light brown hair and dressed in a smart black dress.

"Are you a designer?" She asked out of curiosity.

The Doctor quickly spotted that there was something odd about her, despite looking human she quite clearly wasn't. He knelt down and scrutinised her closely making her shift about uncomfortably. She started to ask what he was doing when he exclaimed: "Fleshkind!"

Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open in shock. How could he possibly have known that?

"What are you talking about," she stammered, hoping that her denial would drive him off the scent. He wasn't listening, he just continued to ramble on.

"Not just any Fleshkind though," the Doctor said, "looks pre-teen, but those eyes are the eyes of a baby. Can't be more than a year old, what caused this growth spurt. Wait, wait, there's more, what is that tingling?" He paused and licked the air. "Massive electromagnetic field, ooh, getting stronger now. Perfectly natural, all Fleshkind have electrostatic abilities," he continued, completely oblivious to the distress this was causing, "but not in a child, not this strong at least. What's different here?"

The chiming of a bell disrupted his train of thought, he looked up to the church tower and cursed it. "I was on a roll there!" He exclaimed. "Never really understood the expression: saved by the bell. As far as I can tell a bell suddenly chiming only serves to distract you."

He turned back to the girl but he found that she was running away. He frowned at this behaviour, as annoying as the bell chiming at that moment was there was no reason to run away. As he pondered over this he noticed that a hearse was parked near the front of the church. A funeral was clearly going on, she must have been a guest who had lost track of time, the bell alerting her of the fact that she was late.

Satisfied with this explanation he turned and strolled off, back toward where the TARDIS was parked. Halfway out of the cemetery he came across a park bench with a newspaper resting on it, completely abandoned. Feeling sorry for it he picked it up and took it with him, casting a casual glance over it. He froze.

It was open on an obituary. But not just any obituary, it was the obituary for Sarah-Jane Smith, his former companion.

He glanced back at the church. "Surely not," he muttered. He looked down at the obituary again. Sarah had always been one of the special ones, one of the few that he had revisited after their initial departure. It was against his nature to ever go back for someone's funeral, but if Sarah's funeral was happening in that church right now he was obliged to pay a visit. Besides, for all he knew it may not even be her. He waved at the driver of the hearse as he went past, causing a hesitant one in response.

"See," the gentleman said once the Doctor had disappeared into the church, "I told you he would come back."

"I will call in the croaks," the disguised Kroagunn beside him responded.

* * *

_Marswamp_

The Doctor woke with a start. Something was clearly very wrong. He was chained to the wall in the prison of a Kroagunn prison, that was to be expected, after all that's where he was when he had fallen asleep. No, it was the fact that he couldn't breathe that was concerning, he had synced with the cycle of the mask very quickly, knowing exactly when the water would drain out, allowing him to breathe and when it would fill with water again. He had worked out the cycle of his breathing perfectly so that he inhaled whenever the water drained away and slowly exhaled just before the water drained away again; even in his sleep. But one of his scheduled exhales had been and gone, but the water had remained in his mask.

He grunted in shock and shook his head in a futile attempt to shake the mask from his face.

"I saw that you were coping with the cycle perfectly, Doctor," a malevolent voice said by his ear. Twisted his head to find himself face to face with the Master. "That is why I took the liberty of switching yours off. You will only have a reprieve for air when I say so."

The Doctor began to frantically tap his manacled hands against the wall with a rhythm that the Master instantly recognised as Morse code. "I won't kill you," he sighed. "I'm just making sure you stay on your toes. It's no fun if you are relaxed and content." The Doctor fluttered his eyelids and began to hit the wall in a more frantic fashion. "Oh, stop milking it, you and I both know you can hold your breath for much longer than that." The Doctor tapped another frantic message. The Master nodded. "Ok, I suppose it is a little bit more difficult when you have just exhaled all your oxygen."

He reached up and ripped the mask away from the Doctor's face, gallons of water pouring out and splashing as it hit the water around their ankles. The Doctor coughed up a lungful himself, the Master patting him on the back in an almost friendly manner.

"Can't have you dying on me," he commented. "Not until we have finished having fun with you that is," he added maliciously.

"Nine out of ten," the Doctor muttered.

The Master blinked but his expression remained one of smug triumph. "What?" he asked.

Doctor looked up at him, water dribbling down out of the ends of his moustache and beard that had both grown wild and out of control, and leered. "Nine out of ten," he repeated.

The Master looked back and forth in bemusement. "I seem to have deprived you of oxygen, Doctor," he said, "you're rambling like a loony."

"It's the mark I'm giving you," the Doctor explained. "Nine out of ten."

"Marks?"

"Yes," the Doctor grinned, "for your Master impression."

The Master's eyes widened in shock. The Doctor continued unperturbed. "I admire the effort that has gone in, the previous one just told me that he was the Master and expected me to take it on face value, but not you. You've taken on the appearance of one of the Master's incarnations, perfected all the mannerisms, coupled with an obsession with a continuous four beat rhythm, you've even fashioned up an imitation of a Laser Screwdriver fitted with Lazarus technology. I'm impressed."

The Master opened his mouth as if to protest but realised that it would be fruitless, he visibly deflated. "How did you know?" he asked.

"I know the Master," the Doctor replied, "we were in the academy together, as close as brothers. I think I would know if the man in front of me is the Master or not."

"You mean I went to all this effort, getting all his mannerisms right," the Master growled, "and obtaining this rod installed with Lazarus technology, for nothing!"

"Twelve out of ten," the Doctor grinned.

The imposter snarled and pointed the rod at the Doctor. "How about a nice 200 years to wipe that smirk off of your face," he snarled.

"That's an empty threat," the Doctor scoffed, "you need my genetic signature in order to do that."

A silver dart shot out of the end of the rod and embedded itself in the Doctor's neck, a wire trailed out of the back of it that kept it attached to the rod. 'The Master' examined some data that he was receiving. "And now I have your genetic signature," he said smugly after a few seconds. he pressed a button and the dart was cruelly extracted and pulled back into the rod by the wire.

"Inability to accept a loss," the Doctor noted, "your Master impression gets better and better. Go on then, I dare you."

"You want me to age you 200 years?"

"I'm three thousand odd years old," the Doctor replied, "what difference is an extra two centuries going to make?" 'The Master' clenched his jaw in anger but stowed the rod away in his hoodie. "So who are you really?" the Doctor asked conversationally.

"Does that matter?" the imposter shrugged.

"Well, I'm quite interested in who my newest foe could be," the Doctor explained. "You could be anyone. You could be brown, you could be blue, you could be violet sky," at which point he began to sing passionately.

"_I could hurtful, I could be purple,_  
_ I could be anything you like. _  
_Gotta be green, gotta be mean, gotta be everything more. _  
_Why don't you like me?  
Why don't you like me? _  
_Why don't you walk out the door?_"

"Yes, alright," 'the Master' interrupted irritably.

Ignoring the interruption the Doctor continued.

"_How can I help it? How can I help it?_  
_How can I help what you think? _  
_Hello my baby, hello my baby,  
Putting my life on the brink._"

'The Master' made a strange squealing noise from the back of his throat, a cross between the noise of a pig and a frog, and began to glow green. The Doctor froze in his singing and turned to stare in wonder at this.

"That's very familiar," he commented, "I've definitely seen something like that before."

The green glow disappeared and the Master was gone. Stood in his place was brutish looking Kroagunn, dressed in the standard military dress except that he had silver thread sewing up all the seams and a couple of silver braids wrapped around each wrist. It growled and flicked out a tongue that was at least two metres long and as thick and strong as a rope, and swung it like a whip, lashing the Doctor on the side of the face. He recoiled from the blow and gasped out of pain and shock.

The Kroagunn retracted its tongue and marched up to the Doctor. "I am Cane Boloshov," he spat in a deep croaky voice, completely unlike that of the Master, and whilst grasping the Doctor's chin so that he was forced to face him. "I command this Citadel and all the croaks that it inhabitants. I have the power over your life and those of your fellow prisoners. Do not mock me, Time Lord!"

"You were doing much better earlier," the Doctor responded, "now you don't even look like the Master."

Boloshov growled and stepped back in preparation to strike him with his tongue again.

"What sort of razor do you use?"

The Cane froze in confusion. "Razor?" he questioned.

"You have a very close shave," the Doctor explained, "I couldn't see a single whisker on your chin, it was perfectly smooth. Is that the effect of using Gillette Fusion pro-glide with the five blades, or do you still swear by the Mach 3." Boloshov looked at him blankly. "Or maybe you are one of those strange people who use the four bladed Wilkinson Sword Quattro? I don't look like an expert I know, but all my previous bodies have liked clean shaving themselves like you, I can't really explain my attraction to my facial hair, it's just how I prefer it. Even so, I was never able to get as good a shave as you seem to have managed, what's your secret?"

"You're just trying to confuse me," Boloshov sneered.

"Is it working?" the Doctor queried.

"No, I am completely in control," the Kroagunn said triumphantly.

"I'll clearly have to get up much earlier to catch you out," the Doctor agreed. "So is it the cream then? Does the Gillette Fusion Gel make that much difference, I always managed with the stick of soap and a brush. Do you think that Wickes really are better than Dulux? They imply that that is in their advert. No seriously, did you notice the fluffy dog in that Wickes paint advert? I think it is safe to assume that Dulux are the leading brand and that Wickes were cunningly pointing the finger at Dulux without actually breaking the law. There's a law against naming opposition and slagging them off in Britain you see, in America you can say what you like. In fact American justice is completely based around law and following the correct procedures, completely negating common sense and actual justice in most cases. Makes me sick that a burglar who accidentally got locked in the garage of one of his victims successfully sued them for wrongful imprisonment. It was his own fault for crying out loud! You would have thought that the reason he ended up getting imprisoned, that he was trying to rob the house, should negate his law suit, but no, because he technically was wrongfully imprisoned he wins."

As the Doctor paused to catch his breath Boloshov lifted up the discarded mask, still pouring water into the flood on the floor, and pressed it over his mouth and nose once more. The Doctor thrashed about but was unable to stop the Kroagunn from retying the strap behind his head. Boloshov glowed green again and returned to the form of the Master.

"I have waited a long time to have you at my mercy, Doctor," he snarled. "I am going to enjoy watching you suffer."

The Doctor stared back into his eyes with a completely neutral expression, he tapped a message on the wall with his chained wrists again.

"No," Boloshov replied. "I'm going to let you stew a little longer, we shall talk again when we are ready."

He turned and stalked out, leaving the Doctor tapping futilely on the wall.

* * *

_Earth_

The Doctor placed his hand on the varnished oak coffin and gently massaged it. "Sarah-Jane Smith," he breathed. It was definitely her.

"Excuse me," a voice by his ear hissed, "we are trying to hold a service in celebration of Miss Smith's life. You cannot just waltz in here and-"

"Just pretend I'm not here," the Doctor shrugged the voice off as if it were an annoying fly.

"Be reasonable man, you're upsetting the younger members of the congregation."

The Doctor reared up to his full height and regarded to vicar coldly. "With respect," he said, "Sarah is already dead, there is little that I can do to make that any worse than it already is."

"Disrupting the funeral service for a start," the vicar replied. "And take that hat off, this is a church not a fancy dress party."

The Doctor stiffened. "No," he replied, as if the vicar had suggested that he cut his arm off.

"That wasn't a request," the vicar hissed, "it's disrespectful to wear a hat in God's house."

"Why is she wearing one then?" The Doctor asked inclining his head towards an Asian woman in the congregation, this caused the vicar's face screwed up with impotent rage. Satisfied, the Doctor turned back to the coffin and placed his hand back on the lid.

"All you are succeeding in doing is disrupting the service," the vicar bit out. "She wouldn't have wanted this."

The Doctor was on him in a flash. "How would you know!?" He roared. "You didn't know her!" He slowly turned back to the coffin looked down at it sadly. More softly he said: "you didn't know her. Oh Sarah."

He was vaguely aware of a small argument behind him, a new man had stepped and seemed to be urging the vicar to calm down. The Doctor didn't pay it that much attention to what was being said, he could guess the gist, no he was more interested in the new speaker, he sounded very familiar. He glanced up to see that it was an Asian man in his prime, dressed in a smart suit.

"Chandra," he said, recognising the man instantly. "Haresh Chandra."

The man the Doctor called Haresh frowned at him. "Do I know you?" He questioned.

"No, not really," the Doctor replied. "I saw you briefly at her wedding but I was a little busy trying to save her to introduce myself. I know your daughter though."

"Rani?" Haresh looked back at his daughter questionably.

The Doctor followed his gaze to a group of teenagers and despite the situation couldn't help smiling. "Of course, the whole gang is here. Rani, Clyde, Luke... I don't know you."

"Maria," the dark haired girl supplied.

"Nice to meet you Maria," the Doctor smiled. He turned to the fifth person in the group, the young girl he had met outside the church; the Fleshkind. "We've already met, I didn't catch your name."

The girl shifted about uncomfortably, clearly very unsettled by his presence. "Who are you?" Maria asked.

"Oh of course. I'm the Doctor."

"You're the Doctor!" Haresh exclaimed incredulously.

"But you died," the tall, thin lad whom the Doctor remembered was called Luke said in wonder. "Didn't you?"

"Regenerated," the Doctor corrected. "Liberto died but the Doctor lived on and now he is me. Does that sound right to you? Makes me sound like some great deity like a god. But then again most of the gods on this planet all turned out to be aliens no more powerful than myself, excluding the Osirians I suppose, and the daemons, oh and the Devil; now that I mention it they mostly were all very powerful beings with godlike powers actually, why on Gallifrey did I say they didn't?"

"Like last time you mean?" The black lad questioned.

"Twelve out of ten, Clyde!" The Doctor exclaimed. "I knew I could rely on you."

"Am I missing some private joke here?" Haresh demanded, sounding very much like a headmaster as he spoke.

The Doctor looked at him strangely. "Why would any of us be joking?"

"You're young enough to be my son," Haresh said accusingly, "you couldn't possibly be the Doctor whom Sarah-Jane mentions."

"Why not?" The Doctor asked.

"Because, if I have understood her correctly, that would have had to have happened long before you were born."

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "You are absolutely spot on with your logic there, I have to admire you for that. You may be completely wrong in your assumptions, but at least you are logical."

"Now look here!" Haresh shouted.

"I'm an alien Mr. Chandra," the Doctor interrupted. "I look and sound human but I'm not, I have two hearts completely different lungs and a lifespan only rivalled by creatures long since extinct. That is until they make a grand return and I have to stop them, obviously. I imagine the Eternals will probably reappear at some point as well..."

Haresh immediately took advantage of the Doctor's brief pause. "Are you trying to tell me that you are an alien who doesn't age, so looks exactly the same now as he did 30 years ago?" he questioned.

"No," the Doctor scoffed, "I age as much as any creature, a lot slower than you humans perhaps but I do age. The key thing here is that whenever my body comes to the end of its life, whether through old age or horrific accident, I will undergo a change, a regeneration, and I will walk away with a brand new body. You following?"

Haresh looked at his daughter in despair. "Do understand what he is going on about?" he asked.

"Yeah," she nodded thoughtfully, "that does sound a lot like the Doctor that we met." The Doctor beamed. "But then again we have no way of knowing that this is _the _Doctor, he could just be some man claiming to be him and we would be none the wiser."

"Oh come on!" the Doctor exclaimed, "I thought you were on my side!"

"I can vouch for this man."

They all turned to the source of the voice, a man clearly brimming with self-confidence, dark haired and with a greying beard, strode in purposefully. The Doctor sensed a very negative vibe coming off this smartly dressed man, and his senses were rarely wrong. A blonde woman out of the corner of his eye leaped to her feet with a look of horror etched across her face, almost confirming his suspicions.

"Can you now?" the Doctor responded. "I don't know you, how would you know who I am."

"I am one of the major shareholders in the organisation UNIT," the gentleman replied, "as Miss Petrescu over there can confirm. You may have removed all the power that UNIT once had, but we still hold basic information, such as the current face of the Doctor." He stared at the Doctor intently almost hungrily. "I can vouch for the fact that this man is indeed the Doctor."

"You have me at a disadvantage," the Doctor smiled, "you know my name but I don't know who you really are."

The gentleman smiled thinly. "Who am I?" he asked rhetorically, behind him several other smartly dressed gentlemen entered the church. They were not as smooth as he was, few stood up straight, those that did didn't seem to be able to walk properly. They shuffled across the stone floor, fiddling about with their collars as if they were too tight and many sweating uncontrollably.

The gentleman's thin smile turned into a smirk. "I'm the gentleman who is going to kill you all," he announced calmly. "Any further questions?


	4. Prisoner 3

_Marswamp_

The Doctor coughed and spluttered as Boloshov in the Master's form ripped the mask from his face. "I don't have many joys left in life," the Cane said almost sadly, "constant failure to become a benevolent dictator weakens your resolve."

"Benevolent!" The Doctor snorted. "Since when have you ever tried to be benevolent."

"I might have been benevolent!" Boloshov shouted, acting as if he were the Master. "You never gave me the chance."

"You weren't very benevolent the one time you did succeed," the Doctor pointed out. "Or does the time reversal mean that you don't actually know about that? Yeah that's probably it."

"We are getting sidetracked!" Boloshov bit out. "There is one thing that I do enjoy though."

"Tiddlywinks? Chess? Watching the Aussies getting skittled by England's spin attack?"

"You Doctor," the Master impersonator sneered. "Watching you suffer."

"And yet you stalked off at a moment when I was suffering the most," the Doctor pointed out cheekily.

"Will you stop interrupting!" Boloshov roared. "It took me ages to come up with this speech."

"Oh, you're trying to stay in character," the Doctor realised. "Gotcha. Oh no! Please don't advance my age by a few centuries, I wouldn't be able to bear it. I'm so poor and defenceless."

The Master flashed green and was replaced by Boloshov's true form. The Kroagunn reared back and flicked its tongue out, it striking painfully on the Doctor's chest. Satisfied with the result, Boloshov returned to the Master's form.

"But I have to put my own personal interests on hold," 'the Master' continued as if nothing remiss had taken place. "It is time for the questioning to begin."

For the first time the Doctor was completely dumbfounded. "Questioning? Why on Gallifrey would you need to question me?" He exclaimed. "I'm not a Lizard, I'm not privy to their battle plans, and I haven't been working to undermine you Kroagunns; though you are slowly persuading me that I should be."

"You were captured in a Lizard encampment," Boloshov maintained, "I suppose you'll claim you were just stopping off to sample some of the local wine."

"Yes," the Doctor nodded. "I was taking a sip when your croaks started charging in."

"No, no, no, no, no," Boloshov tutted, "you never appear anywhere by accident. You came here for a reason and I want to know what it is. Start singing."

The Doctor brightened up instantaneously. "Well if you insist," he said cheerfully, and started to sing.

"_My little buttercup, has the sweetest smile.  
Dear little buttercup, won't you stay awhile.  
You and I will settle down in a cottage built for two. Oh,  
Dear little buttercup_-"

Boloshov returned to his true form and roared with his horrific croaky squeal. His tongue lashed out and cracked on the Doctor's exposed nipple. He howled in pain and reflexively rattled his chains as he futilely attempted to massage the wound.

He panted and grimaced at the Kroagunn. "Different place each time," he observed. "Nice to see a torturer put a little bit of variety into his work."

Boloshov didn't return to the form of the Master this time, he was too riled. "Enough of this!" he roared in his deeper, croaky voice. "I have known you were coming here for several weeks, clearly you didn't come here by accident, and I want to know why!"

"If it's battle plans you want you're asking the wrong guy," the Doctor responded. He inclined his head towards the Lizard beside him. "He's the one to ask that."

"I'm not interested in battle plans," Boloshov returned. "I'm more concerned about an alien trespassing on my planet and getting himself into trouble in the middle of my war zone. Why are you here?!"

"I may be willing to answer your question," the Doctor replied casually. "But I should point out the weakness of your position. There is no court order banning me from your planet, it isn't actually your planet yet so you cannot say who can and who can't visit it, and no quarantine preventing anyone from leaving or entering; I'm well within my rights to visit here if I so choose. I haven't actually done anything to merit such treatment from you: I didn't join the Lizards or give them any aid in this little, ok maybe not so little, war, and I haven't committed any crimes that you can prosecute me for; at least not yet, it is quite possible that my future self came here a few weeks ago and jay walked or brought eleven items to a ten items or less checkout. In short I have done nothing wrong, I have not stated myself as your enemy, so you have no reason to imprison me here."

"Oh I can think of a very good reason to keep you here, Doctor."

"You said that without moving your lips!" The Doctor exclaimed. "And you used a different voice!"

The Kroagunn twisted towards the sound of the voice, croaked in shock and dropped to the ground, bowing his head in subservience. This behaviour puzzled the Doctor, Boloshov was the Cane, the leader of the Citadel, everybody answered to him, and he was clearly a man who took no nonsense from anyone. So who could possibly have caused him to quake with fear? Out of the shadows thrown by the dim lights stepped a man, a perfectly normal looking human male, averagely built with sand coloured hair and dressed in a smart suit.

"Commander," Boloshov grovelled, "I had no idea you were coming, if I had known I would have-" a glance from the gentleman silenced him.

The gentleman turned his full attention turned to the Doctor. "You murdered my partner," he said with feeling.

"Your partner?" The Doctor questioned.

The gentleman gazed at him coldly, only the twitch at the corners of his mouth betraying any emotion. His right fist clenched and briefly crackled with green electricity.

"Oh," the Doctor's hearts clenched with the sudden realisation. "You're the other one, aren't you."

* * *

_Earth_

"UNIT?" The Doctor questioned. "Are you sure you don't mean Sundew?"

"No you heard me correctly," the gentleman replied, "ask Miss Petrescu if you don't believe me. You see we took control of UNIT not long after that massacre involving roboforms that you call the Pilot Fish. Only you didn't want us to have it, you used your time machine to manipulate the inner politics meaning that when we did take over all our power was non-existent. You destroyed UNIT."

"Ah, so you're the ones who forced Sir Alistair out," the Doctor realised. "Seems a bit petty to kill me over something as silly as this. I was merely looking out for my friend, my friend who you cruelly abandoned, I should point out, after everything he has done for UNIT he was left out in the cold, all alone with no purpose; I recreated his purpose."

"He was old," the gentleman sneered, "prone to mistakes. Dead now I believe, yes you really helped him out there."

"Still not really a reason to kill me now is it," the Doctor repeated, he turned to the teens beside him. "What does that tell me about you? You wrestle the control of an important organisation out of the hands of a man who has done such a good job all his life, I stop you and now you are here with intentions of killing me."

"He's an alien," Clyde exclaimed.

"Twelve out of ten!" The Doctor beamed.

"Enough of this!" the vicar shouted, shouldering his way past the Doctor. "You have no right to befoul God's church in this way."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the Doctor said urgently.

"And you!" He snapped, rounding on the Doctor. "This is clearly some sort of prank. Well you've had your fun, now you need to leave."

"This isn't a prank," the Doctor insisted. "He's an alien who intends to kill us all."

"Your blasphemies do you no credit," the vicar sneered. He turned and was surprised to find himself face to face with the gentleman. To his credit he composed himself very quickly. "As for you, you should know better, sir."

The Doctor and the Fleshkind girl felt it at the same instant, a sudden electrical surge originating from the gentleman. "No!" They shouted simultaneously. Alas, too late.

The gentleman's hand crackled with green electricity as he thrust it into the vicar's chest. The vicar convulsed as the electricity surged through his body, his face twisted and mouth stretched open in a silent scream. Almost the second after the attack began, the gentleman removed his hand and allowed the vicar to keel over backwards.

There was a collective gasp and a shuffling of feet as everyone took hasty steps to get as far away from the gentleman as possible. Only the Doctor didn't run, instead he dropped to the floor and put his fingers to the vicar's neck; he was unsurprised to find no pulse.

"What are you?!" He heard a woman's voice, with the hint of a polish accent, exclaim.

He slowly got back to his feet. "That wasn't necessary," he said to the gentleman's back.

The gentleman kept his gaze on the blonde woman for a few seconds before slowly turning to the Doctor. "You now see my power," he stated, "you understand exactly what you are up against."

"Well actually I think Miss Petrescu," he looked at the blonde woman, "you are Miss Petrescu aren't you?" She nodded. "Good, Miss Petrescu summed it up perfectly, I have seen many impersonators of humans in my time, varying degrees of success in their part, and I have been able to see through... Well not all, but most of them, and even the one's I miss I can learn to spot the tell-tale signs once I realise. But you are different, even now none of my psychic probes tell me anything other than the fact that you are human, which we both know isn't true. Your technology is amazing, it trumps even the Zygon body prints and they still fool me nearly every time."

"We are the pioneers of shape-shifting," the gentleman replied. "None can match us."

"I can't disagree with you there," the Doctor nodded. "The other thing that baffles me is that your disguise is perfect, and yet you can summon some of your natural power, that should be impossible."

"Yes, a trick that even some of my race do not know," the gentleman grinned evilly. "It isn't difficult if you practice enough."

"So who are you then?" The Doctor asked. "Who are you really?"

"I am currently known as Commander 69," the gentleman replied, "but that is subject to change when this mission concludes."

"That's not a name," the Doctor scoffed, "that's just a rank."

"And that is all you will get," the gentleman snapped back, "only my brethren get to know my true name."

"A Time Lord custom," the Doctor noted, "how high the pretentions of your race seem to be."

"Quite," Commander 69 smiled, refusing to give anything away.

The Doctor nodded, allowing the brief pause in the conversation to ponder his next move. He inclined his head towards the other men in suits that had accompanied 69 into the church. "Don't think much of your brethren," he said. "This is an important assignment, coming to kill me, yet I doubt any of them have ever taken up the human form before."

"They are not my brethren," the gentleman replied, he turned to regard them coldly. "Just croaks following my lead, I could have come here alone if I had wanted, but I need them."

"Either you need them or you don't," the Doctor said, "make up your mind."

The gentleman smirked. "You're trying to sow seeds of discord, trying to make me turn them against me. Well it won't work, they are all loyal to me, and me only. And even if I weren't here they would know the importance of removing you."

The Doctor glanced over at the men in suits gathered around the entrance. They're disguise was as excellent as Commander 69's was, only their awkward stances betraying their lack of humanity. He realised that they were blocking the entrance, their role seemed to be to simply stop anyone from leaving while the gentleman killed everyone; a completely unnecessary and barbaric action in his opinion.

"Ok," he said, "let them go. It's me you want, not them, take me and let them escape."

"No way!" Clyde exclaimed.

"You can't expect us to leave you behind," Rani agreed.

Similar protestations came out of the mouths of Luke and Maria but the Doctor waved them all away. "I'm the threat to your cause, whatever it may be, and it was I who openly opposed you. They've done nothing to you, let them go and I will willingly submit to whatever tortures you have deigned appropriate for me to suffer."

"A noble sacrifice," Commander 69 observed.

"Would you expect anything less?" The Doctor shrugged.

"Noble, but unnecessary," the gentleman continued, "we do not intend to torture you. Your mere death is enough."

"Strike me down then and leave," the Doctor challenged. "Quickly, before my secret message reaches UNIT and they come down to, no hang on that's not going work, _you're_ UNIT. Xess, if you'll excuse my Mondasian, can I have a second to think? I appreciate that being your enemy you wouldn't normally give favours, but I don't normally ask this sort of thing so it would be, Torchwood! Before my secret message to Torchwood, yes that makes a lot more sense, that should fool him... Ah, I've given the game away haven't I?"

"Simply striking you down now would cause panic," Commander 69 explained, "and noise. Some might escape, either way others would hear of what is going on here too quickly for us to make our escape. The mission needs to remain anonymous. Besides I know full well that I couldn't strike you down right now even if I wanted to. You Time Lords are more resilient to my little trick than these pitiful apes."

"Just let them go, nice and slowly and there will be no panic," the Doctor whispered.

"You are missing the point. You are not my only enemy in this room, they just haven't had the opportunity to cross me yet," Commander 69 stepped back and regarded the congregation, first resting his eyes on the teenagers. "The Bannerman road gang, saving the universe from alien invaders from the safety of an attic." Now he turned to the blonde woman, giving her a hungry look that made her shiver out of revulsion. "Adriana Petrescu, a simple cleaner at Serf industries yet was recommended for a job at UNIT by the late Miss Smith, make of that what you will but I see that there is more to her than meets the eye. And the many friends and family who have each aided Miss Smith in one way or another, either directly, or mostly indirectly, helping her to save the world. They all need to be removed Doctor, especially now that they have seen us."

"You seem to have planned this very carefully," the Doctor glanced back at Sarah-Jane's coffin, "bringing all your enemies under one roof."

"A happy coincidence," the gentleman dismissed, realising the Doctor's meaning, "cancer or something I believe. Seems ironic, she spent most of her life saving the world from alien threats, yet her actions have allowed the doom of those she cared about the most."

"Why?" The Doctor screwed up his face in confusion. "Did she swallow a bomb or something?"

"Not exactly," the gentleman replied silkily. "I'm surprised you haven't noticed it yet."

The Doctor inclined his head in confusion. "Noticed what?"

Commander 69 said nothing he just twisted his head and directed his gaze at something else. The Doctor followed his gaze and was surprised to find that it was directed at the Fleshkind girl. He twisted his head back round to regard the gentleman with shock.

"Her?!" he exclaimed. "She's just a child."

"Not just a child," Commander 69 smirked, "you must have realised that she is not human."

He glanced back at the child, the expression on her face suggesting that she wanted to turn and run away as fast as she could yet at the same time couldn't bring herself to move. As she stood there he sensed a change in the atmosphere around her, excess electromagnetic energy seemed to be flooding out of her. He licked the air to taste the energy, it was definitely the sort of energy that a Fleshkind would be expected to give off; an adult though, not a child. He frowned as he scrutinised her trying to work out what was different about her. Why was she so powerful?

His eyes widened as his gentle psychic probe uncovered the secret. Vast amounts of energy were stored inside, more than he had seen in such a small space before. Undoubtedly this was where here enhanced powers clearly originated, but this wasn't natural, no living creature should ever have that sort of energy stored inside itself. A tiny portion swirled around the girl's body, just like the blood is pumped around by the heart, and this was to be expected, but the majority remained dormant in the very centre of her chest, completely tense as if it could completely release itself at any moment. It was then that the Doctor realised the true nature of the energy. It was designed to release itself in all directions from its core destroying everything in its path; including the girl herself. She was a walking, talking bomb.

"How could you!" he roared. "She's just a child."

"That is a sin that her race are already being punished for," the gentleman replied nonchalantly, "it had nothing to do with us."

"How could they?" the Doctor questioned out loud, staring into space. "It's barbaric."

"I'm not a bomb," the girl said quietly, and then repeated herself as if she were trying to convince herself of that fact.

"She isn't!" Rani exclaimed. "She can't be, we stopped it from happening!" she trailed off and looked back at Sarah-Jane's coffin sadly. "She said it was over."

"The initial trigger was cancelled," Commander 69 stated cruelly, "that is true, but the explosive power remained. Just like with any bomb all it will take is a little prod in the right place and the timer will restart and the bomb will detonate."

"You'll destroy the planet!" Clyde exclaimed.

"Will it?" the Doctor stared at him questionably.

He nodded emphatically. "She was a super weapon designed to kill all the Metalkind on their planet," he explained. "If she blows here and now then we'll all die, not just here in the church but all over Britain, all over the world."

The Doctor looked back at the gentleman. "He has a point," he said. "How do you stop her from causing Armageddon? Now that is a silly film, astronauts drilling into an asteroid in order to blow it up from the inside. And as for the International Space Station blowing up like that, with a big fireball as if there was plenty of oxygen to feed its growth, not to mention the cheesy ending. Now Deep Impact, that was a good film, and a far more accurate description of what will happen when... what will happen _if_ an asteroid threatens to crash into Earth." He paused and looked at the Fleshkind child who was staring at him with a look that suggested that she thought he was mad; completely mirroring the way everyone else was looking at him.

"I wonder if there is another door somewhere else in the church," the Doctor continued, "in the church hall or somewhere. The vicar would know, unfortunately he can't help us though. Shame, I like a nice door, they bring so much more to a room, they can allow people to enter, and then even better, leave." He paused and frowned as the entire congregation continued to stare at him blankly. "Look what is the use of distraction if no one is going to take advantage of it?"

At last Rani got the hint. "Run Sky!" she shouted. Not needing to be told twice, the Fleshkind girl turned and sprinted down the aisle.

"Stop here!" the gentleman ordered. The other men rushed forwards but were easily stopped by the throng of Sarah-Jane's friends and family; some even tripped over their own feet before they could get there. "You can return to your true forms now you idiots!"

They grinned manically before opening their mouths and releasing a horrible squeal, a cross between a pig and a frog, and glowed green. The green completely engulfed them making it impossible to see them clearly, when it faded again they were no longer men, they were Kroagunns. The leader croaked loudly before leaping high into the air, the others leaped themselves, landing in amongst the congregation and whipping out their tongues to subdue them; wrapping them tightly.

Sky glanced back to see the calamity that had befallen everyone else, she wanted to turn and help but knew that she couldn't, she put her head down and sprinted as quickly as she could. She was almost at the safety of the church hall when the Kroagunn leader landed in front of her. She skidded to a halt, twisted to flee in the opposite direction but was quickly caught as his long tongue wrapped around her waist.

Commander 69 grinned evilly as she was slowly dragged back towards him. "You are right about her power, master Langer," he said. "Originally when she was created the power of a supernova was implanted inside her."

"Overkill much," the Doctor commented, pulling himself back to his feet. During the scuffle he had been shocked by the gentleman, the current that had coursed through his body would have been enough to kill a human, but he was made of sterner stuff so was merely stunned.

"The Fleshkind hate the Metalkind," the gentleman drawled, "theirs is a war that has lasted generations, neither side can even remember who or what started it. The intention was for the her detonation to kill all Metalkind with no hope of any survival. But over her years of inactivity, Sky has lost some of her power, all that remains is enough to blow up a building, something like this church, for example." He knelt down as the girl was brought before him. "This may sting a lot," he said honestly, brandishing a hand that crackled with green electricity. The Kroagunn released her and quickly jumped away as Commander 69 pressed his hand into her forehead. She screamed in pain while he roared in elation.

As quickly as he had started he released her and stood up to survey his work. Sky wasn't dead but she collapsed to the ground, as if all the energy had been drained out of her, breathing heavily. Very slowly she began to glow, then a yellow cloud began to surround her like an aura. She sat upright and it billowed around, then she placed her fingers to her temple and screwed up her face as if trying to make it stop.

"You cannot stop it now," the gentleman taunted, "it will grow and grow until you cannot contain it any more. It will be spectacular to see, it is almost a shame I cannot be here to enjoy it." He looked at the Kroagunns. "Let's move out!" he ordered.

The Kroagunns released their prisoners and slowly made their way to the main exit, croaking all the way, everyone was too dazed to stop them. Commander 69 made to follow them but stopped when he found himself in front of the blonde, Polish woman, Adriana Petrescu. His hand tingled with excitement. She attempted to crawl away but he was quickly upon her, lifting her up by the collar.

"I haven't forgotten you," he snarled. His other hand crackled dangerously near her face, fear etched across it, so sweet he gave out a deep husky breath. He was about to add to his own twisted pleasure by thrusting his electrified hand into her chest when it suddenly stopped crackling. He frowned at it and attempted to bring forth his power again but only succeeded in producing a few sparks.

He twisted his head and snarled as he saw Sky pointing her hand at him whilst staring at him intently. He threw Adriana to the ground with rage and stormed towards the main door. "Make sure all potential exits are locked tight," he ordered, more forcefully than was necessary. He stopped just outside the door and gave one final glance of hatred at those inside before the doors slammed shut.


	5. Prisoner 4: Murder

**Author's note: Apologies for the delay in uploading, I have been literally swamped with work, I am here now though and hopefully shall return to my normal schedule after this one.**

* * *

**Murder of a Gentleman**

_Marswamp_

"Murder is a very strong word," the Doctor said. "I think you'll find that the correct terminology is inhume, completely removes the personal nature of the death. You clearly haven't had much contact with any assassins, they give you such a clear outlook on death."

The young gentleman strode though the ankle deep water, his glare continuously boring into the Doctor's skull. "Cane," he stated, his eyes never leaving the Doctor, "drain the Pond."

"Commander?" Boloshov questioned.

"Do it!" the gentleman roared.

The Doctor watched with interest as the Kroagunn leader hurried out of the room looking incredibly humbled. The gentleman continued to stare at the Doctor with the same hatred as before, never once removing his gaze; it was actually slightly disconcerting.

"This probably won't make any difference," the Doctor said, to break the silence, "but the whole inhuming thing wasn't personal. I didn't know who he was until he tried to kill me, I thought he was just the hearse driver. If anything it was his own fault, he tried to kill me and I acted out of self defence."

"It doesn't matter how it happened," the gentleman replied evenly. "You still killed him."

"It is interesting how much affection you show towards him," the Doctor noted. "Normally in the sort of working relationship you two have one would be working to get one over the other to gain more power yourself. You should be rejoicing he boost in power his death gives you. Why is this not the case."

"I'm asking the questions," the gentleman growled.

"No you're not," the Doctor replied. "You're just standing there and giving me glares, I'm sorry to break it to you but unless you are a Gorgon or a Basilisk then your looks cannot kill me." At that moment there was a loud grating noise and the water level slowly began to sink. "Hello, what's going on here?"

"The Cane has been trying to determine your reasons for visiting us through his, frankly pathetic, torture techniques," the young gentleman stated.

"I don't know," the Doctor replied, "he has been causing me some pain. My nipples aren't normally a different colour you know."

"He has caused you pain," the gentleman nodded, "but has he got anywhere near to you answering his questions? No he hasn't. I am now going to succeed where he failed."

"I am quaking in my boots already," the Doctor grinned. "Though that could simply be the chilly breeze. Yes now that water isn't in danger of leaking into my boots I am so much more likely to answer your questions, I'm sure Boloshov is really pleased that you are taking this torture duty so seriously. He's probably kicking himself for having not thought of that cruel technique. He filled my lungs with water and whipped me until I was black and blue, but that is nothing compared to the horrors that the mysterious gentleman has to offer. What are you going to do next? Trim my beard? Give me a haircut? Brush my teeth?"

The gentleman smirked, an expression eerily similar to one his colleague liked to pull, and held up his right hand. "I'm just making sure that my torture is very personal," he said, allowing his hand to crackle with green electricity. "I don't want anyone else to suffer unnecessarily."

The Doctor looked down at the now rapidly disappearing water and understood. If the water had remained then every time the gentleman shocked him he would end up shocking everyone else in the room, including any Kroagunns that were in there to question other prisoners. "Ok," he said carefully. "What is it that you want me to tell you?"

"I want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth," the gentleman stated.

"Are you sure?" the Doctor questioned. "That could take a very long time."

"I don't care how long it takes."

"Very well," the Doctor nodded. "In the beginning there was nothing except a few stray particles of matter, swirling around and not really interacting with one another. Then one day, although I should note that time didn't really exist at this point I am just saying day to make things easier, a TARDIS appeared smack bang in the middle of it all. Now this sudden appearance kicked the particles up into a frenzy, forcing them all to interact due to the sudden lack of space, and as they started to collide with one another energy was released. These tiny explosions created new, denser matter which in turn interacted to begin new explosions, a great chain reaction causing a build up of energy. The TARDIS soon disappeared to allow the chain reaction to continue, but not before ejecting many of its rooms. The rooms were sucked into the middle of the maelstrom of loose energy, and this final interaction caused the most massive explosion that reality has ever seen. And thus the universe was created."

"Enough!"

"But I've barely started," the Doctor protested. "I haven't even reached the big crunch and the Starship Terminus' voyage to the centre in order to escape and unknowingly start up the second, more stable universe. That's a very interesting fact, few people know that there have been two universes since the dawn of time."

"I don't care!" the gentleman shouted as he stepped forwards and punched a fist crackling with electricity into the Doctor's chest.

"You said," the Doctor gasped, "That you wanted to know the truth, the whole truth and nothing but-"

"About the death of 69," the gentleman interrupted.

It took the Doctor a second to realise what he was talking about. "Oh, your partner," he realised. "Why didn't you just say so?"

* * *

_Earth_

Sky lay flat on her back, eyes scrunched up tightly and her palms pressing into her temples; the golden aura continuing to float about her vicinity. Haresh sat at one of the nearby pews staring at her in wonder.

"An alien," he breathed. "All this time and I didn't suspect a thing. And her own people did this to her."

"How many times do you have to be told?" Rani questioned.

"I'm just making sure I have this all correct," he said defensively. "And you all saved the world from Sarah-Jane's attic. I thought you were going over there far too often, I knew you were up to something."

"No you didn't," she scoffed in return, unable to resist teasing him even though the situation was dire. "You were completely clueless."

Adriana returned from the church hall, holding a damp cloth, closely followed by Clyde. She knelt down and gently pressed it against Sky's forehead.

"He was right," Clyde said, "there is another exit through there. Unfortunately mister Shocker and his army of giant frogs have already thought of that."

"They've barred the main door as well," Luke announced.

"We might be able to get out through the windows," Maria suggested. "But even so, none of this helps Sky, she's still counting down to explode."

"Of course it would be helpful if we had the resident Time Lord to help us," Clyde said, sitting down next to the Doctor, "rather than just falling asleep at the vital moment."

Rani directed a warning glare at him, but she couldn't help agreeing, the Doctor wasn't being very helpful at the moment. Since being shut inside the Doctor had paced up and down for a few seconds and then sat down and entered a trance like state. While she appreciated that each Doctor did things differently this passive approach wasn't very reassuring.

"We need to get him in here," Adriana muttered, "force him to save her to save himself."

"A nice idea, but I doubt that he will have stuck around," Clyde said.

"What did you say?"

Clyde jumped from the Doctor's sudden return to life but quickly composed himself. "I said I doubt he would have stuck around after locking us in here," he said.

"No you," the Doctor pointed at Adriana, "what did _you_ just say?"

She shrugged. "I say we should bring him in here so he has to save her to save himself."

The sombre expression the Doctor had been pulling since he had first entered the church slowly shifted into a broad grin. "That's it!" He exclaimed.

"You don't think he'll still be here do you?" Clyde questioned sceptically.

"Of course he'll be here," the Doctor scoffed, "I'm far too dangerous for him to be willing to leave me here, he'll want to make sure that everything goes smoothly. Situation: we are locked inside a church with a little girl who is about to explode with the power of an exploding sun, hopefully the gentleman is right when he says here power has diminished otherwise we are all dead regardless. Our mission is to stop Sky from exploding and/or escape from the church, hopefully apprehending the gentleman in the process. Have any methods for escape been located?"

"All the doors are locked tightly," Maria explained. "We might be able to escape out of the windows but that would attract a lot of unwanted attention from them if they are indeed waiting."

"Is there no secret tunnel underneath the alter?"

They all turned and gave him a funny look. "You've been watching too much TV," Clyde said eventually.

"You mean none of you have even checked?" The Doctor asked in confusion. They looked at one another uncertainly until Clyde slowly went over to check. "Excellent, but first," he dropped onto his knees beside the writhing Sky. "Sky? Can you hear me? I know we didn't get off on the best foot but I need you to trust me." He leant forwards and placed his forefingers onto her temples. "I need a response Sky, I can't guess what you are thinking." The girl remained unresponsive, her eyes darting about underneath her closed eyelids. The Doctor roughly lifted her up and pressed his forehead against her. "Let me in!"

"Doctor stop it!" Rani rushed over to pull him away but he simply shrugged her off as if she were an annoying fly.

"The more you resist the more painful it gets," the Doctor shouted. "The pressure will just continue to build and build until you cannot contain it anymore. Relax, embrace it, let it all out. Don't resist, embrace it!"

The gold aura that surrounded Sky suddenly exploded outwards and sending the Doctor flying backwards. Sky's eyes snapped open and her eyes darted left and right like a frightened animal.

Rani dropped down to her side and held her close. "It's gone," Sky said softly.

"Gone?"

"I'm not a bomb anymore," Sky clarified.

They stared in shock not really believing it, but then they realised that the golden aura was gone. Rani immediately pulled her into a tight hug.

"I thought you said that only the creator could remove the energy from her," Maria said.

"We did," Rani nodded, "but obviously none of us took into account the genius of a Time Lord."

"So does that mean we are safe?" Haresh questioned urgently.

"Energy cannot be created or destroyed, Mr. Chandra," the Doctor said as he sat up, "it can only be changed into a different form or moved." And the golden aura slowly began to surround him, he giggled as they frantically backed away from him. "Of course, that's really going to help isn't it." He jumped to his feet and swayed slightly due to an unexpected wave of dizziness. "Whoa! It's like I'm regenerating all over again. Oh, what a feeling!"

_"Dizzy, I'm so dizzy my head is spinning  
Like a whirlpool it never ends  
And it's You girl makin' it spin  
You're making me dizzy"_

They watched the Doctor sing and dance up and down the aisle for a few seconds. "So what now?" Haresh wondered out loud. "Are we supposed to run and let him die on his own?"

"No, I get it," Adriana said. "Doctor, can you pass the energy onto someone else?"

The Doctor froze and hugged his chest protectively. "Oh no you don't," he said, "I'm not letting one of you sacrifice yourselves for my benefit. If anyone's going to do that it will be me!"

"But you could pass it on if you wanted to," she pressed.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I suppose I could, I took it out of her didn't I, giving to someone else won't be much different."

A smile slowly started to spread across her face. "I think I have an idea," she said.

* * *

_Marswamp_

"A cleaner," the younger gentleman snarled.

"Twelve out of ten," the Doctor replied.

"A cleaner foiled his plan," the gentleman repeated angrily.

"Clearly not just a cleaner," the Doctor added. "She applied to join UNIT under Sarah-Jane's advise if you'll remember. Your mistake is not hiring her on the spot, who cares that UNIT didn't exist so couldn't legally employ anyone. Anyway by the looks of things I am not the guy you are after, an easy mistake to make I know, so if you could just release the chains and I can return to minding my own business."

"Oh no you don't," the gentleman retorted, "you're not getting away with it that easily. The cleaner may have stated your plan, but it wasn't her plan really, it was yours, you just used one of your fancy mind tricks to make her think that it was hers."

The Doctor frowned. "Mind tricks? So I'm a Jedi as well now am I?"

The gentleman froze in his pacing and stared directly at him. Summoning his power the gentleman created a green aura of electricity around his body. The Doctor braced himself for the inevitable shock, screwing his eyes tightly shut. When no shock came he opened them cautiously and was startled by what he saw. The gentleman was floating in the air, possibly utilising an electromagnetic field that he had created around himself, his eyes glowing bright green and green electricity writhing all over his body. He casually floated towards the ceiling where all the prisoners' chains were attached.

"You can fly!" The Doctor exclaimed. "Is there anything you can't do? This is starting to get ridiculous."

The gentleman ignored him and simply thrust an electrified hand against on pair of chains. "How does that feel now?" he sneered. "Not so cocky now, are you."

The Doctor frowned. "No, I'm about as cocky as before," he said in confusion.

"Don't your chains cause you agony?"

"Well they chafe a little but I have had a lot worse."

The gentleman snarled and doubled his electrifying of the chains. "You Time Lords are tough, but you will not resist for long," he vowed.

The Doctor suddenly understood what was happening. "Ah, you're trying to electrocute me through my chains, yes, not really necessary to go all the way up there in order to do that now was it? Anyway those aren't my chains," he said, "those belong to that Lizard other there." He indicated towards a Lizard that was thrashing about in agony as green electricity surged through its body.

The gentleman realised his mistake and hurriedly ceased his attack, looking slightly sheepish, as a deep booming laughter echoed around the room. "Oh dear," the voice said between chuckles. "Oh dear. And I was lead to believe that you were a professional."

Out of the shadows strode a blonde man all dressed in black, grinning like a madman. Boloshov had decided to take on the Master's form again. The gentleman slowly dropped back to the ground and squared up against him. "Who are you?" he questioned.

"I'm the Master."

"The Master of what?" the gentleman queried.

"Oh," the Master leered manically, "everything!"

"Well you're not my Master," the gentleman stated nonchalantly. "How did you get in here anyway?"

"They all say that," the Master said, ignoring the question, he walked past the gentleman and straight towards the Doctor. "Hello again Doctor, have you missed me?"

"Yes actually," the Doctor said. "You're far better at this torture business than he is. He just killed that Lizard over there because he thought it was me, he's a liability."

"Is there a reason you are here?" the gentleman growled.

"I came for the Doctor of course," the Master replied. "My oldest foe humbled and humiliated, I was never going to miss that."

"Well you've seen it now," the gentleman said irritably, "so go away."

"You expect me to just leave?" the Master questioned with feign shock. "No, no, no, no." He brandished the metal rod which the Doctor knew contained the Lazarus technology. "I have unfinished business with the good Doctor."

"Well you'll have to wait your turn," the gentleman lifted his fist and made it crackle with electricity, "I was here first."

The Master uncharacteristically faltered at this act of aggression but quickly composed himself. "I've been enemies with the Doctor far longer than you have. He killed your partner. Boo hoo. He ruined my life, abandoned me to a stuffy life on Gallifrey while he escaped across the stars with the first pretty face to flutter her eyelashes at him. He knew I was having problems, you didn't fully understand what the problem was but you knew it was there and you did nothing. You don't know the agony I had to endure all those years."

By the end of his speech he was looking directly at the Doctor with tears welling up in his eyes. "Wow," the Doctor breathed, "someone's done their homework." It disturbed him at how close to the truth the imposter had managed to get; tears were starting to well up in _his_ _own_ eyes.

The gentleman was completely unaffected by this passionate speech. "What do you think this is? Jeremy Kyle?" he asked. "We all have beef with the Doctor, you'll just have to join the queue along with everyone else." He made the electricity on his hand crackle threateningly.

The Master regarded it warily but then raised his eyebrows in surprise. "69 would have shocked me by now," he said. "You're all talk and no action. You spent your entire time in his shadow but now he is gone you can't fill his shoes. What would he think if he could see you now?"

"Shut up!" the gentleman snarled.

The Master laughed. "Oh, I can't believe I was scared of you," he taunted. "You have such an aura of power around you and yet the moment you come across someone not under your influence you crumble, you cannot-"

"Cane!" a Kroagunn Arrow suddenly ran in and addressed 'the Master', "you are urgently needed in the command centre."

Boloshov paused and turned to the arrow. "Thank you very much," he said, dropping completely out of character apart from his appearance, "I shall join you shortly."

The Arrow saluted, turned and marched out, the gentleman staring after him in confusion. "Cane?" then it suddenly dawned on him, he rounded on 'the Master' angrily. "Boloshov!"

"I would love to stay and chat," Boloshov smiled, "but duty calls." He strode completely unchallenged towards the exit, briefly pausing to add. "Thank you for this little chat Commander, it has been most enlightening."

"He's very good isn't he," the Doctor commented once Boloshov had gone. "Would have fooled me as well if I wasn't a Time Lord. He'll go far."

The gentleman finally snapped, with a roar he struck the Doctor in the chest and held it there for several seconds to allow him to feel the full power of his electricity. When he stopped both Time Lord and human impersonator were panting heavily.

"Ok," the Doctor panted. "If that is what I think it is then I need not delay things any longer, so I shall tell you exactly why I am here, and why Boloshov was right not believe my story about sampling the local vintage. Or if you are so inclined, I could tell you how your partner died in all the grisly details."

"So you did kill him!" the gentleman exclaimed triumphantly.

"Yes," the Doctor nodded, "I thought you would choose that one."

* * *

_Earth_

Commander 69, the older gentleman, stood just in front of the hearse that he had arrived in watching the church carefully with the Kroagunn Bull at his side. It was risky to hang around, he knew that if he had miscalculated he could easily be caught in the blast radius of the girl's detonation, but he knew better than to leave the Doctor alone and expect him to bow out quietly. He would be planning something, and he needed to be around to counter it when it happened.

"We should go," the Kroagunn slurred with the still unfamiliar human tongue.

"If I had wanted your opinion," the gentleman said, "I would have asked for it. What would we do if, in our absence, the Doctor escaped?" He waited a few seconds while the Kroagunn failed to reply. "Exactly."

At that moment all the church windows shattered at once and the guests that had been inside started to climb out. The gentleman sighed heavily and strolled over to them as the other Kroagunns appeared in their true forms and went about efficiently rounding them up.

"You're going to have to do much better than that, Doctor," he shouted.

An Asian girl on her knees nearby glared up at him, he ignored her training his gaze across the crowd in search of the Doctor until her expression changed into one of horror. He followed her gaze and froze in shock. The Fleshkind girl and Miss Petrescu were sprinting away from the church. Somehow they had managed to escape without anyone seeing them, using this pathetic escape attempt as a distraction.

"After them!" he roared. Hearing his shout the two females split and began running in opposite directions. "Get the girl, Miss Petrescu is mine."

Several Kroagunns obeyed his shout, leaping high into the air in their chase. Commander 69 summoned the full extent of his power in the form of a green electrical aura and flew up into the air. He quickly overtook the Polish woman, twisted round and landed directly in front of her. She skidded to a halt and turned to flee in the opposite direction but was struck in the back and sent flying, it was only a minor shock though so she was able to climb back to her feet and stumble onwards; he was deliberately holding back so he could prolong the encounter for as long as possible.

He struck her several more times until she found herself cowering with her back against the main doors into the church. "Foolish woman," the gentleman taunted. "You have only made it worse for yourself."

His hand crackled with electricity in preparation to deliver the final lethal shock, but she suddenly started to smirk. "What is so funny?" he demanded.

"Nothing really," she shrugged. "Well, I'm surprised it never occurred to you."

"Surprised what never occurred to me?"

"That this was our plan all along," she replied.

A noise behind him made him twist round. He was shocked to see the hearse driving straight towards him at top speed, and even more so when he realised that the Doctor was behind the wheel. Before he could think of anything else, or react in anyway, it hit him in the chest and carried him with it as it smashed into the wooden doors and broke them down; sending splinters of wood flying. It skidded to a halt halfway down the aisle.

The Doctor fell out drunkenly and glanced back to reassure himself that Adriana had indeed dived aside in time. "What are you waiting for?" he cried at those still inside. "Run!"

They didn't need telling twice. As they made their escape the Doctor stumbled towards the front of the hearse to inspect the damage. He didn't get the chance, the gentleman was already back on his feet, spitting blood and looking dishevelled but otherwise unharmed. His eyes glowed bright green as he roared and struck the Doctor in the chest with electrified hands. The Doctor screamed in pain and collapsed to the ground as the golden aura flared even brighter than before. The gentleman cocked his head in interest as he watched the Doctor clutch his head and thrash about.

"You took the explosive power from her and put it in yourself," he realised. "Oh you really have been stupid this time. You will still die, and then nothing will stop me hunting down and killing all your friends individually. You have given your life and saved nothing."

"No he hasn't!"

He twisted to the sound of the voice and was struck in the head with a long wooden candle stick holder. As it was brought round to strike him again he caught it and wrenched it from his assailant's hands.

"You!" he exclaimed upon realising that it was Adriana. He struck her on the side of the head. "You have been a thorn in my side for too long." He raised it above his head in preparation for a brutal killing blow.

The Doctor jumped between the two of them and gripped hold of his arms to prevent him from striking. "Bully," he said and head butted him between the eyes.

Both men reeled backwards and cried out in pain. The Doctor recovered first, feeling his face with his palms and inspecting himself closely, the golden aura had gone and with it the explosive power of the Fleshkind super weapon.

"Are you alright," the Doctor asked giving Adriana a hand back to her feet.

"I'll live," she said, covering a cut on her forehead. "Did it work?"

"The energy is no longer inside me," the Doctor nodded, "which can only mean one thing."

He turned towards the gentleman as he screamed and sat up clutching his head, a golden aura began to circulate around his body. "What have you done!" he screamed. "What have you done!"

"This is called a taste of your own medicine," the Doctor said. "Let's see how you enjoy boiling energy swirling through your body, threatening to detonate at any moment."

The gentleman roared in anger and summoned electricity to his palms. But that only succeeded in making the aura glow brighter and he was forced to stop and clutch at his head again. A few Kroagunns ventured into the church but as soon as they saw the aura surround the gentleman turned and fled.

"Tell me who you really are," the Doctor said. "What is your plan for global domination, and who do you truly work for? Answer my questions and I may see fit to spare you."

"No you won't!" the gentleman snarled. "There is not enough time for you to remove the energy and banish it into the stars even if you wanted to. I'm going to die, so burn with me!"

He summoned all his electrical energy and screamed as its appearance made the aura glow the brightest yet. The Doctor and Adriana turned and sprinted as fast as they could towards the exit. They were out of the door and sprinting towards where the crowd had gathered, the Kroagunns having all fled, when the energy finally detonated. They dived to the ground as the shockwave of energy washed over them completely obliterating the church as it went through it.

When it was over the Doctor slowly got to his feet and surveyed the damage. The church was a completely unrecognisable ruin, everything inside had almost certainly been incinerated. It was a bittersweet victory for although they had all survived, Sarah's funeral could not continue, they didn't even have her body anymore.

"And so I commit Sarah-Jane Smith to the ground," he said solemnly. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

* * *

**Author's note: So the SJA arc of this story comes to a close and the older gentleman has finally been defeated. But the younger is still at large, and the Doctor is still imprisoned in the Kroagunn citadel. Will he escape? Will the gentleman reveal who he truly is? Why was Boloshov summoned to the command centre? And where the xess is Broxa? These questions and more will be answered in the concluding chapter of this part, next time.**


	6. Prisoner 5: Escape

**Escaping the Pond**_  
_

_Marswamp_

The command centre buzzed with activity, Kroagunns frantically analysing data and then croaking loudly at one another. They were suffering a crisis, a crisis completely unlike any other that had been seen since the start of the war.

"So sorry I'm late," a silky voice echoed across the room, immediately hushing everyone, "I was occupied in the Pond." The owner of the voice stepped into view, revealing himself to be Boloshov, still in the guise of the Master. "What's going on?" He questioned casually.

"We are under attack, Cane," one of the higher ranking Kroagunns reported, making no comment on his appearance but clearly unsettled by it.

"The Lizards can't have regrouped that quickly," Boloshov frowned. He strode to one of the desks to analyse the data, the information startled him.

"Neither have they achieved powered flight on such a scale," the Kroagunn added. "Not to our knowledge at least."

"Aliens," Boloshov snarled, "more skramean aliens! Have the Lizards made their own alliance with outsiders?"

"We would have heard about it far sooner if they had," the Kroagunn said. "No they appear to represent a completely new faction. We have also received a transmission from them, but we have been unable to decipher it. Even the universal translators that the Electrified Ones gave us cannot translate it."

"Play it," Boloshov ordered.

The Kroagunn quickly croaked an order to one of the nearby attendants and they pressed a few buttons on a console and a deep, heavily drilled voice reverberated around the room, speaking with short simple words with one syllable. The Master's eyes widened as he listened.

"Cane?" The Kroagunn questioned.

"Judoon," Boloshov said simply. "The Shadow Proclamation are here."

"The Shadow Proclamation!" The Kroagunn exclaimed. "What on Marswamp are they doing here."

"The Doctor," Boloshov replied, "they have come to rescue him, that transmission is them stating their intention to invade the citadel unless we comply with their request. Which no doubt will be the safe return of the Doctor."

"What shall we do then?"

"We evacuate," Boloshov replied. "We let them enter unimpeded so they can take him back and retake the citadel once they have left. We'll leave behind the few Croaks on guard duty so we do not jeopardise our alliance with the Electrified ones."

"What about the Commander?" One of the other Kroagunns asked.

"Let them have him," the Cane shrugged. "I don't think the Electrified ones will miss him that much."

"Are you sure about this?" The first Kroagunn questioned. "Won't they be angry at us for-"

"I'm not dying for the sake of a petty dispute with that Time Lord," Boloshov roared. "Either way we can claim we put up some resistance even if the majority of us aren't here to do anything."

"Very well," the Kroagunn muttered. He turned and repeated Boloshov's orders.

Boloshov smirked to himself as the room exploded into activity. Finally the Commander was going to get what was coming to him, and he would be free to command his citadel unimpeded once more. He returned to his true form and slowly stalked from the room with the other officers.

* * *

The young gentleman turned away from the Doctor, storming to the other side of the room and putting his hands over his palms. The Doctor panted heavily and shook his head from side to side, this caused his hair to stand up on end making it look like a lions mane.

"I think he took that very well," he said to the Lizard next to him, though not loud enough to risk the gentleman retaliating with another powerful shock.

"What have we ever done to you?" The gentleman questioned.

"Discredited one of my oldest friends, sent a malicious assassin after me, gave clearance for said assassin to commit mass murder, and tried to kill me whilst ruining Sarah-Jane's funeral. Have I left anything out?" The Doctor smiled his cheeky smile. "I suppose the real question should be: what did I ever do to you?"

The gentleman floundered for a moment. "You wouldn't understand our purpose," he said eventually, "it was inevitable that you would oppose us."

"Well done," the Doctor said sarcastically, "you certainly made sure that you were correct. What is your purpose anyway?"

"To safeguard peace," the gentleman replied.

"To safeguard peace?!" The Doctor repeated. "You're killing people to safeguard peace?! The Doctor is confused, it hurt itself in confusion. Why would I want to stop peace?"

"You don't understand."

"Twelve out of ten!"

The gentleman opened his mouth to elaborate but was cut off as the sound of an explosion echoed through the pond. "What was that?"

"The sound of destiny," the Doctor replied. "Well no not really," he added following a questioning glance from the gentleman, "but it was a good line wasn't it. I'll have what she's having is a good line too, I could have used that if I had wanted but I thought that the former was more appropriate. Or perhaps you would prefer one of Arnie's quotes, I'll be back, no that won't do, how about: get to the chopper?"

"You know what that is?" The gentleman advanced on him accusingly.

"I can make an educated guess," the Doctor replied. "This brings us to the other topic that I could have explained to you, my purpose for being here on Marswamp. To trap you."

The gentleman blinked in surprise. "To trap me? You're the one at my mercy, we caught you!" He exclaimed triumphantly.

"Does it never occur to you that the reason I was captured was because I wanted to be captured," the Doctor retorted. "Adriana, having tried to apply to UNIT, met your partner before Sarah-Jane's funeral. After his demise she revealed to me that there had been two of you, deducing that you were the same as he was; and she was right. I couldn't just march into UNIT though, it no longer exists, there was no trail to you, however your partners one major mistake was revealing your alliance with the Kroagunns, that gave me a small clue that could lead me to you. I came to Marswamp and determined that the best way to proceed would be to allow myself to get captured by the Kroagunns, counting on the fact that you wouldn't be able to resist confronting me personally."

"So what?" The gentleman questioned. Another explosion echoed around the room. "You aren't alone," he realised, "you have had allies awaiting the opportunity to enter and take me."

"Twelve out of ten," the Doctor grinned. "The Shadow Proclamation would like a word with you themselves. Operating on a class five planet and endangering the lives of the citizens? Someone has been a very naughty boy."

The gentleman sprinted towards the exit, all thoughts of revenge suddenly forgotten. "Guards!" he shouted. A few Kroagunns answered his call, but nowhere near as many as he had been hoping for. "Where is everybody? Never mind, follow me."

They sprinted down the corridor, echoing the sound of stomping feet that was starting to echo around the citadel. The Doctor heard all this thumping and slowly started to hum a tune. He hummed louder and louder stamping his foot on the ground in time with a beat that only he could hear, building in volume until he came to a sudden stop. After a second's pause he started to sing.

_"Look out! Look out!  
Pink elephants on parade  
Here they come!  
Hippety hoppety.  
They're here, and there  
Pink elephants ev'rywhere.  
Look out! Look out!  
They're walking around the bed  
On their head  
Clippety cloppety.  
Arrayed, in braid  
Pink elephants on parade."_

He sang so loudly that the gentleman and the Kroagunns could hear him. The gentleman froze and turned to two of the croaks. "Go and shut him up!" he ordered. As they left he continued his charge through the citadel, noting how there was a suspicious lack of Kroagunns anywhere other than those that were with him. "Boloshov! Where the hell have all the guards gone!?"

_"What'll I do? What'll I do?  
What an unusual view!  
I could stand the sight of worms  
And look at microscopic germs  
But technicoloured pachyderms  
Is really much for me."_

The Doctor threw in a nervous laugh as the two Kroagunns came in. They had a quick discussion and one of them walked over to the Doctor, picking up the mask that was dangling from the wall and still dribbling water over the floor.

_"I am not the type to faint  
When things are odd or things are quaint  
But seeing things you know that ain't  
Can certainly give you an awful fright!"_

As the Kroagunn lifted up the mask to strap it over the Doctor's face he suddenly pulled himself up into the air with an awesome upper body strength that no one had anticipated and kicked the mask out of the Kroagunn's hand. Before it could react he looped his legs around its neck and pulled him close, squeezing tightly.

_"What a sight!  
Chase 'em away!  
Chase 'em away!"_

The other Kroagunn rushed forwards and pointed his rifle at the Doctor but he was quick to pull his captive into the line of fire preventing the Kroagunn from taking any action.

_"I'm afraid, need your aid  
Pink elephants on parade!"_

The free Kroagunn squealed its battle cry and charged forwards, only to be halted as several bright red beams struck it on the side. Its squeal increased in pitch until it inaudible to human ears and it thrashed about wildly until it was incinerated.

_"Pink elephants!  
Pink elephants!"_

The Doctor finished singing and released his prisoner, who dropped to the ground panting, as a squad of Judoon stomped into the room; blasters pointing at the remaining Kroagunn. They were headed by a Judoon who wore no helmet, had rather short, stumpy horns and a black patch over its right eye.

It turned to the Doctor and spoke in its native tongue. "Spoh koh troh koh no foh toh roh, boh koh loh koh moh toh shuh."

"Roh,foh, spuh kah gah bah tor. Moo go, go, koh moh bay bee, do duh loh koh moh shun," the Doctor replied, seamlessly slipping into the Judoon language.

The lead Judoon nodded. "It is good to see you again Doctor," he said.

"You too Kabrok," The Doctor grinned. "The gentleman is heading towards the command centre I think, you will want to intercept him before he can join up with the rest of the Kroagunns otherwise he will be almost untouchable."

"That won't be an issue," Kabrok stated. "Several transports launched seconds after we touched down, it appears as if his allies have abandoned him."

"Shouldn't you be going after him?" the Doctor questioned.

"Do not be concerned, I have sent a squad to apprehend him," the Judoon colonel explained.

"Yes, a squad left by one of those shoot first, ask questions later clowns no doubt," the Doctor said snidely. "I want him alive, Kabrok, I can hardly determine his ulterior motive if he's dead."

"You killed the previous one," Kabrok reminded him.

"That isn't the point," the Doctor exclaimed, "the point is the bit on the end of a sword that you want to avoid poking your eye with, but that isn't really important right now. Unshackle me! Then take me to the squad hoping to intercept him."

"You are mistaking us for the Judoon of the past," Kabrok said, as he signalled for one of the grunts to remove the Doctor's shackles. "I am in command now, and changes have been made."

"Maybe," the Doctor agreed, "but when put under pressure old habits die hard. Now that was a good film, Bruce Willis at his best and Alan Rickman too. Really puts in the spirit of Christmas, all that fighting... death... and violence... ok maybe it's not that Christmassy after all, but there is snow!" There was a click as his shackles were finally removed.

"Freedom!" he shouted and sprinted off. Kabrok sighed and ordered his men to pursue.

* * *

The gentleman sprinted into the command centre expecting it to be teeming with life. He was horrified to discover that it was completely empty, and not only that, it also seemed to have been abandoned in a hurry. He howled in fury and kicked one of the desks.

"Where is everyone?" One of the Kroagunns questioned.

"They've abandoned us you idiot!" The gentleman roared, electrocuting the croak that had said that. "You will pay, Boloshov!" He vowed. "You will pay."

He turned back to the rest of them. "There's a quicker way to the transports isn't there?" He questioned hurriedly.

He was too late, however, at that very moment a squad of Judoon strode into the room, blocking the only exit.

"Halt," the leader commanded. "You are all guilty of wrongful imprisonment."

"What?!" The gentleman exclaimed. "There hasn't even been a trial yet."

"Do you have anything to say?" The leader questioned, ignoring the comment.

"Come and get us then!" The gentleman challenged. He summoned up his electrical power to his hands and slapped them together to release a shockwave that knocked the Judoon backwards. "Open fire!"

The Kroagunns immediately cocked their weapons and fired at the stunned Judoon. A few were hit and killed but while Judoon can be incredibly stupid they did have all the correct instincts when it came to fights, the rest took cover whilst returning fire.

The Doctor heard the exchange of fire, swore loudly and re-doubled his efforts. The screams of Kroagunns being individually incinerated, along with the crackle of electricity echoed around through the corridors; he was running out of time.

As he came in a Kroagunn was being incinerated by several red energy beams, a couple of Judoon were writhing on the floor with no obvious injury, the Doctor guessed they had been shocked by the gentleman, and the gentleman was stood in the centre rubbing his hands together to build up the charge in his hands.

"Give it up!" The Doctor shouted. "You can't kill us all."

The gentleman sneered and hurled the ball of electrical energy directly at the Doctor. It flew faster than a speeding bullet, and would have certainly killed him had it reached its target. As it was, a Judoon spotted it and dived in the way, flailing all the way to the ground and twitching more many minutes afterwards.

"Sentence: Execution!" the helmetless squad leader shouted and fired a continuous red beam at the gentleman. The beam paused just before hitting its target, unable to break through the electrical aura that the gentleman had hurriedly erected around himself. The rest of the squad joined in the attack, adding their own red energy beams to the assault but none could break through.

He snarled and started to take a step forwards, his electrical aura continuing to protect him. It was beginning to look as if they had bitten off more than they could chew, the gentleman was too powerful to be put down by traditional methods. That all changed when Kabrok strode into the room. He immediately took note of the situation and acted by firing his own pistol at the gentleman. This also failed to break through the aura, but the extra energy from his attack was enough to make the gentleman falter.

As more Judoon from Kabrok's personal squad added their own beams to the attack the gentleman was pushed back. He grunted from the effort, crouching backwards onto one knee and holding up his arms as if trying to push back an invisible force that was trying to crush him. He cried out several times, constantly trying to push back with his shield of electrical energy but never able to gain any purchase.

There was a popping sound as one of the red beams broke through and struck the gentleman in the shoulder. His grunts turned into an horrific scream as his body slowly began to burn. He tried to fix the breach in his defences but it was too late now, a second beam broke through and hit his flank making him scream even louder. Following that the rest also broke through individually until they were all burning through him; he brought his hands to his head as he disappeared in a spurt of red fire.

The Doctor was the first to react to the end of the conflict, sprinting over to where the gentleman had been standing moments before and bending over to examine a pile of ash. He picked up a handful of it and sniffed at it.

"Nothing," he spat. "You've completely destroyed all traces of DNA."

"And what did you expect us to do?" the leader of the initial squad questioned. "He attacked us."

"I know," he replied tiredly, "I just wish that things could be simple for once. It would be nice to know who my enemy actually is before they reveal their grand plan."

"We will remain vigilant," Kabrok assured him. "He wasn't the first, and certainly won't be the last."

A Judoon strode up to the colonel, saluted and relayed a message. "The citadel is completely under our control, there was surprisingly little resistance."

"Very good," Kabrok thanked him and turned back to the Doctor. "Why do you suppose so many abandoned the citadel without a fight?"

"They must have realised that it was pointless to resist," the Doctor replied, he grinned with a sudden realisation. "Well done Boloshov," he said, he couldn't help but admire the Cane for his quick thinking and willingness to actually stand up to the gentleman, even if he was pretending to be someone else.

"What's that?"

"Oh nothing, just someone we might encounter in the future," the Doctor replied. "So, This may not have turned out the way we were hoping but we have successfully neutralised an alien threat to Earth, I call that a success don't you? Did you also complete the other task I set out for you?"

"We did," the Judoon colonel nodded, beckoning two Judoon forwards. "Found them exactly where you said you would leave them. You know the Kroagunns would have probably looked after your hat and jacket just as well, you didn't need to go to such effort."

The Doctor grinned as one of the Judoon brought forth his jacket. "Maybe, but I would never have seen them again, one of the shape changers would have nicked it," he said. "When did Kroagunns start to shape change anyway, must be one of the technologies that the gentlemen brought them. Now that I mention it I haven't actually seen much benefit the Kroagunns are actually get... hang on a minute!"

He rubbed his hand over the seam where the arm joined the main body of the jacket and revealed that there was a wet sticky substance on it. He sniffed it carefully, noticing out of the corner of his eye that several Judoon were carefully looking at something, anything, that wasn't him.

"Glue," he announced. "What is glue doing on my jacket!"

"There was a little mishap," Kabrok said carefully.

"You pulled the arms off!" the Doctor exclaimed, noticing the same thing on the other shoulder.

"We did," Kabrok said slowly, "but we did stick them back on, the ones responsible have been suitably punished."

"With glue?!"

"No, with a court marshal. They have both been stripped of their position."

"Not the punishment!" the Doctor shouted, his face twisted into a snarl. "You stuck the arms back on with glue! You stupid idiots!"

"They're back on aren't they?" a Judoon questioned.

"You don't fix clothing with glue! I might have been able to fix it if you had left them detached, but like this?" he was silent for a few seconds as he tried to calm his breathing. "A one of a kind jacket, ruined," he breathed. "Well at least the hat is ok."

Kabrok opened and shut his mouth like a goldfish, looking up at the ceiling to avoid the Doctor's gaze. The rest shifted about uncomfortably.

"What. Have you done, to my hat?" the Doctor asked slowly.

There was silence for a few seconds and then from somewhere in the crowd a deep rumbling sound started. The Doctor followed the sound and discovered that it was coming from a Judoon, the others staring at him pointedly, others struggling not to echo the noise he was making. Then the Doctor realised what it was.

"Colonel?" he demanded. "Why are those Judoon laughing?"

To his surprise, and irritation, Kabrok started to laugh as well. "Game's up I suppose," the colonel giggled.

"What?" the Doctor questioned, thoroughly confused.

"That's not really your jacket," Kabrok explained between fits of giggles. "It's a clever fake, your belongings are safe on my ship."

The Doctor looked around at the laughing Judoon struggling to process what had just happened. _Tricked by the Judoon! How am I ever going to live this down?_ He wondered. After getting over the initial shock though he couldn't help but find the funny side himself. Ever so slowly he began to laugh, a soft chuckle at first but it quickly grew into deep booming that rivalled those of the Judoon.

"I'll get you for this Kabrok," he promised.

"I look forward to it Doctor," the Judoon colonel replied.

* * *

_Earth_

Torchwood had quickly isolated the church's ruin from the rest of the public, and had been quick to make sure that the guests would not tell another living soul the true nature of what had occurred. Eventually they had been released and, even with all that had happened, had reconvened to the main hall of Park Vale school; where Haresh worked as the headmaster. It had always been agreed that this was where they would go afterwards and they weren't going to change that now; several of the women had worked very hard in setting up the buffet.

As everyone enjoyed the food and reminisced about the highlights of Sarah-Jane's life the Doctor slowly slipped out, strolling unseen across to the car park.

"You're leaving again." The unexpected voice made him halt in his tracks. He slowly turned to discover that it was Clyde.

"I've never been good with good-byes, Clyde," the Doctor explained. "I should never have come in the first place, 69 wouldn't have targeted you all otherwise."

"You don't know that," Clyde shrugged. "He may have decided that attacking us would be a good way of getting at you anyway, regardless of whether you turned up or not. And don't apologise for causing trouble for us, you saved us, the rest doesn't matter."

The Doctor nodded, glad for the positive words. "I need to go," he said. "69 wasn't alone, another man is out there somewhere and willing to cause as much grief as his partner did today. I have to stop him."

"You will be back though?" Clyde questioned pleadingly.

"You do not need me Clyde," the Doctor insisted. "I've watched you save the world from that attic countless times. You're a clever, brilliant person, as are Rani, and Luke, and Sky. You'll be fine. Things will change, but change can be good, I'm a walking talking example of that."

"We can't keep it up," Clyde said hopelessly. "Sarah-Jane was the only thing holding us together, who's going to do that now? Luke's in Oxford, Rani and I are going to be heading off to Uni, and what about Sky? What will happen to her? Who will look after her now?"

"Everything will be ok, Clyde," the Doctor insisted. "What about Adriana? She seems quite capable."

Clyde stared at him dumbfounded. "Adriana?"

"Yes," the Doctor nodded. "We could organise for her to legally adopt Sky, and legally take ownership of 13 Bannerman road. Two birds with one stone, assuming there is a problem with the house and the supercomputer in the attic. Adriana probably doesn't have anywhere decent to stay, and Sky will need a new person to call mum."

"She won't be able to afford it, surely," Clyde said incredulously.

"Honestly Clyde, I'm the Doctor," he chided, "miracles happen around me. Do you like my proposal?"

He thought about this for a moment. "She has been struggling to find work since we ruined her original job," he mused, "and she certainly is as enthusiastic as Sarah-Jane was."

"I'll take that as a yes then," the Doctor grinned. "People leave and the team changes but its heart and soul always remains, keep up your good work, it's what she would have wanted."

He turned and walked away, satisfied that the impact of Sarah-Jane's death would soon wear off and the Bannerman road gang would return to saving the world when he wasn't available.

"Before I go," he said twisting back round to face the teenager, "is there anything I can do for you?"

Clyde pondered on this for a moment. "Well, Rani and I managed to get grounded by the Judoon in one of our adventures," he said.

The Doctor grinned. "I'll see what I can do," he promised. "That shouldn't be too difficult."

Clyde smiled for the first time since he had heard of Sarah-Jane's death. Things were finally looking up.

_13 Bannerman road is the home of Sarah-Jane Smith's Legacy,_ he thought._ Home to the cleaner who saved aliens from slavery, her adopted daughter from another planet, a giant supercomputer in the attic, and a whole world of adventure._

"Thank you Doctor," Clyde said, only to realise that he had already disappeared. He shrugged, turned and made his way back into the school hall.

* * *

**End of Part one**

**Author's note: Clyde's thought bubble at the end is an alteration of his introduction to each episode of SJA from series three onwards, illustrating my thoughts on a way the series could have continued without Elisabeth Sladen. The song the Doctor sings is "Pink Elephants On Parade" from Dumbo, *sigh* Disney doesn't make films like that anymore...**

**Up next: the Doctor finally returns to Earth, with a haircut and a trim of his beard, to find his companion has picked up a message from an old 'friend', and the Kamelion Trail truly begins...**

_**Soldiers of Stone**_


	7. Part Two: Stone Soldiers

**Author's note: I'm back at last, life is very busy at the moment so for the time being my weekly updates are to be scrapped, fortnightly updates shall be the norm until further notice, hopefully I will be able to stick to that a bit better. Without further distractions, let's continue.  
**

* * *

**Part Two: Stone Soldiers**

The witching hour. One moment in time when the entire population is asleep, when the only sounds that can be heard are those of nature. A truly magical time of night, but completely fictional. There always is one poor sod working the night shift or a group of rowdy teenagers, drunkenly swearing at lampposts. Also refusing to adhere to the childish fantasy, a young woman in a flat in London sat on a couch, the lights off to allow the other inhabitants to sleep, yet had the TV on loudly.

She was quite short with a wiry build, her dark hair sticking up in a tangled mess behind her head. She stared intently at the screen that currently showed the menu of a DVD, loudly playing music in a constant loop while scenes from the movie were being shown. She pointed the remote at the screen and randomly pressed buttons, flipping through the many sub-menus. A casual observer would say that she was bored, but this wasn't the case, she was searching for something.

She grinned triumphantly as the curser alighted on a random square in the middle of the screen. She had found another Easter Egg. She pressed enter, threw the remote down onto the place beside her and picked up a notepad and pencil which was on her other side.

"If you have already experienced the first part of this Easter Egg skip to scene two now, yes there are two scenes, if this is your first time sit back and enjoy," a voice from the TV said. The girl paid little attention to this, being too busy noting down how she had found it. "Hello there." The girl glanced up to see a man with brown hair, wearing a reddish brown jacket, sitting or standing, it was impossible to tell so that his head and shoulders were visible on the screen.

"This is going to be another boring one isn't it," she moaned.

"Well that depends on your point of view," the man said.

The girl froze, slowly raising her head up from her notepad to stare at the screen. "What the xess!" She exclaimed.

"Mind your language," the man chastised with a smirk. "Surely you have been taught better than that."

"You can hear me?" She exclaimed, leaning forwards slightly.

"Now that is an interesting question," the man said.

"Broxa!" A man appeared in the door way, the dim light made it difficult to make out exactly what he looked like only that he was long faced and unshaven. "It's three in the morning!" he hissed.

She twisted her head towards him, the glow coming from the open door illuminating her face and revealing a scar stretching from the corner of her mouth to the middle of her cheek. "Larry," she said with delight, "I've found another Easter Egg. Firefly Ultimate Collection disc five."

"Sally and I are trying to sleep," he said irritably, "it's a busy day for us tomorrow and... Are you naked?!"

Broxa looked down at her nude body and shrugged. "Yeah, so what?"

"Well..." Larry once again found himself unable to explain why it was that humans got so uncomfortable around nakedness.

Broxa was an alien, an ancient Mondasian, and the current travelling companion of the Doctor. He had brought her to Earth, specifically the home of Larry Nightingale and Sally Sparrow, so that she could learn how to act like a human, so she wouldn't arouse so much attention in their day to day travels. So far she had learnt quite a lot, had grown to love music and television; yet there were still a few areas that needed to be tweaked.

"Never mind," she said enthusiastically, "you'll like this one. It's a man that actually talks to you."

"Good isn't it," the man said.

"Ah," Larry nodded. "You get lots of those, people talking at you, giving the impression that they are having a conversation with you-"

"When in reality they are simply reading off an autocue the most likely words or phrases that would be expected for them to say," the man finished. "And all because of one man obsessed Angels and blinking. As a fad, its going rather stale don't you think."

"Wow, this one is good," Larry enthused. "Could have almost sworn he knew what I was saying."

"You know, considering your past with this sort of thing," the man snapped irritably, "I would have thought that you would be a little less sceptical, Songbird."

Larry stared at the TV with shock, slowly regained his composure and sat down. "Ok," he said, "what's happened this time?"

Broxa watched this exchange with increasing fascination, a broad grin etched across her face. "You mean he really can hear us?" She exclaimed.

"No, Mayor," the man scolded, "weren't you listening? No, I merely know exactly what you are going to say."

"Are you taking notes?" Larry asked Broxa hurriedly.

"Should I be?" She asked back.

"Give me the pad," he said, "I need to note down everything we say."

She handed it over wordlessly. After moment's silence she sidled up to him. "So, you've seen this before?" It wasn't really a question, more a statement of fact.

"Can't you ask him later?" The man moaned.

She responded by picking up the remote and pausing him. "Well?"

"You shouldn't have done that," Larry replied. "You'll mess up the recording."

She shrugged. "If he knows exactly what we are going to do then he should be prepared for this."

She un-paused the DVD and the man returned to life. "That is correct," he nodded, "but please don't make a habit of it be-"

"See," she said as she paused him once more. "So, where have you seen this before?"

Larry looked at the frozen image on the screen, his eyes glazed over. "It was the reason I met Sally," he said. "She was investigating this strange house which people kept disappearing in. My sister was one of the victims. Sally came to the store to tell me and saw that I was playing an Easter Egg exactly like this one, a man sitting there having a conversation with himself. The Doctor."

Broxa's eyes widened in shock. "The Doctor?" she exclaimed. "What was he doing there."

"Well we didn't realise at first," Larry shrugged, "but it later turned out that it was a message from him, a pre-recorded conversation with Sally to warn her about the Angels, and instruct us on how to get the TARDIS back to him."

"Wow," she breathed. "Why was he talking to you?"

He shrugged. "Dunno really, time isn't a straight line it's really a big ball of wibbly, wobbly, timey, whimey stuff."

"You what?"

"Never mind," Larry said dismissively, "just one of the things he said to us, I know it all off by heart. I think maybe the reason he came to us is because Sally told him that he was going to."

Broxa nodded thoughtfully. "What does he have to do with it then?" she questioned jerking a thumb at the man frozen on the screen.

"No idea," Larry shrugged.

"Cause," the man continued as Broxa pressed play, he immediately trailed off and cursed with obvious irritation. "Why did you do that! You could've asked him any time."

"Did the Doctor send you?" Broxa asked excitably.

"Technically yes," the man replied. "But he is a time traveller, so depending on when he is on the timeline, he may not have actually met me yet."

"What's he doing now?" she asked eagerly.

"What this very second? Probably being chased by a group of savages who believe he is a god, trapped in human form, who needs to be thrown into a volcano in order to be released into the spirit world, knowing him."

She smirked in amusement. "Yes that sounds about right."

"The irony is, of course, that while he sent me to you, my overall task is to send a message to him," the man said.

Larry looked up from his notebook mirroring Broxa's look of shock. "That can't be right," Broxa said eventually.

"No, you heard me correctly, Mayor," the man grinned. "Haven't you got the hang of this time travel business yet?"

"Sure I have," she nodded insistently. "We step in the TARDIS, it spins around, and when we step out we are somewhere new. The culture is different so we have to constantly adapt, but a simple grasp of 21st century Earth is a good starting point, that is the most incon...incon... the least...err...a 21st century person doesn't attract much attention. If we land in a time that is in the past we cannot act in any way that could affect the future as this could lead to-"

"Yes, yes, well remembered," the man interrupted. "Were you not listening to Songbird's explanation on why the Doctor chose him and the other Songbird."

"How did you know about that?" she frowned.

"As you said yourself, just because I am paused doesn't mean I don't know what is happening in the meantime," he responded.

"Ok," she nodded, starting to get her head around it all at last. "So you need us to give a message to the Doctor?"

"Even better than that," he grinned. "I want you to bring him to me so that I can tell him in person."

Larry perked up at that. "He's coming back!" he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "I thought we were going to be stuck with you forever, no offence."

Broxa didn't mind, she was grinning from ear to ear. "Where's my phone?"

"The one in the goldfish bowl or the one you put in the oven?" Larry questioned.

"No, the other one."

"The one that went in the blender?"

"I didn't destroy all of them!" Broxa exclaimed angrily. "You've hidden this one!"

"And so ends part one of my fun family talk," the man said with a grin. "Part two is coming up next so stay tuned or end now and view that part later." He grinned and waved as the screen faded to black.

"It's for your own good," Larry said defensively. "The Doctor asked us to look after you, and I think that includes preventing you from obtaining an asbo."

"Well what is the point in a phone if you never phone anyone?" she questioned in response.

"Yes I know," the man said with a grin a few seconds after returning to the screen.

"People don't appreciate it when you call them in the middle of the night," Larry explained.

"I don't call them in the middle of the night," Broxa replied defensively, "I call them at one or two, so after the middle of the night."

"Oh I've been around," the man said vaguely.

Broxa turned towards the screen. "What are you on about now?"

The man didn't reply, he remained smiling at the screen for several seconds before eventually waving at the screen and saying: "Hello."

"This is a different conversation," Larry explained. "Until the right moment it will just look like a bunch of random phrases."

"Well that's why I need the phone," Broxa insisted. "So I can call the Doctor and tell him to come here."

"You can do that," he nodded. "In the morning, you need to sleep first."

"I couldn't possibly sleep," she moaned. "I'm too excited. The Doctor is coming back!"

"In the morning," Larry said firmly. "Now go to sleep." He stood and slowly walked out of the room.

"That's not true," the man exclaimed. "I had a very specific role."

Broxa huffed, but she knew better than to force the issue, and she was noticing small traces of fatigue affecting her movement. The man laughed. "Very good, no, it was a ham one. Ham and egg and with little sprinkles of-" Broxa stopped the DVD and reluctantly curled up on the sofa to fall asleep.

* * *

Deep in the heart of East Anglia, while all this was happening in London. In an observatory looking up at the stars Dr. Morsprima was examining a cluster of distant asteroids. He was a rather short man and with a large belly that wobbled about like jelly as he waddled around the room. Age and years of stress had dyed his hair the colour of snow and created a huge bald patch on the top of his head. Despite this he still had his large bristling moustache running down his jowls like the tusks of a walrus.

So intent on his analysis of the asteroids he didn't notice as another man entered the room and came to stand beside him. He was tall and thin and dark skinned, wearing a strange military uniform. Dr. Morsprima turned and jumped in shock.

"Amazing," the man said, looking up at the data on the asteroids, "an entire group flying in perfect synchronicity, as if they are all feeling the exact same pull of gravity. But that is of course impossible."

"Not entirely," Morsprima replied, having gotten over his initial shock, "merely improbable. There are many possible reasons for this phenomenon. The real question is about the arc that they are following."

"Yes, I have heard there is some speculation about them passing so close to Earth that the ones on edge will be caught into its gravity and slowly enter our atmosphere," the stranger continued. "We could witness one of the most fantastic meteor displays in history."

"That is unlikely," Morsprima replied. "Their arc is too wide. But they aren't behaving like normal asteroids, none have ever witnessed them before in the history of mankind. They seem to have just popped out of nowhere."

"Interesting," the man grinned.

"I'm sorry, but who are you exactly?" Morsprima questioned suspiciously.

"Where are my manners," the man replied. He grinned at Morsprima and his entire body flickered, then shrank and gained several pounds in weight. When he was finished he was the spitting image of Dr. Morsprima. "I'm you," he said in Morprima's voice.

The real Morsprima was given no chance to react, Shest quickly reaching forwards and snapping the doctor's neck. He grinned manically as the body slumped to floor then strode majestically to the computer. He brought the group of asteroids on screen and set up the telescope to send out a radio signal towards it. He grinned manically at the prospect of the chaos that was about to ensue.

* * *

Larry and Broxa strode into the Costa Coffee just across the road from the flat and quickly sat at a table near the door. Broxa was fully dressed, thankfully, in a multi-coloured dress, a denim jacket and a pair of boots; her hair was also neatly brushed. Larry wore a pair of jeans, trainers and a black t-shirt with the words 'The Angels Have The Phone Box' written in blue bubble writing across the front.

He opened up the backpack he had slung over his shoulder and placed a laptop on the table. "You can set it up right?" he questioned.

"Course," Broxa nodded. "I'll have a hot chocolate."

"Right," he nodded uncertainly, slightly thrown by her pre-empting his question. "I'll be right back, don't-"

"Get into any trouble," she interrupted. "I know."

Larry turned and joined the queue for drinks while she opened the laptop and switched it on. As she waited for it to load up she leaned back in her chair and flicked her eyes across the other customers. Most were badly unfit, they weren't necessarily overweight, she could just tell from the raggedness of their breathing, the subtle extra fat around the jaws, the gorging on cream covered cakes. They would all be killed should the cafe suddenly come under an attack, not one person was paying attention to the entrance, several were even leaning heavily on the back legs of their chairs.

She returned to the laptop as the log in screen appeared and typed in Larry's password, quickly returning to her scrutiny of the rest of the customers. At that moment a new customer entered the cafe, and no one but her noticed him, if they had they would have surely raised a few eyebrows at his appearance: brown trousers tucked into black combat boots, a jacket that was a strange amalgamation between a cream waistcoat and a brown cowboy jacket and a wide brimmed trilby.

Broxa immediately jumped up and leaped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. "You missed me then?" his voice said in her ear, the Doctor's voice.

"I was starting to think that you had left me here," she whispered in his ear, in a tone that was almost bitter.

"Well there are lot worse planets I could have left you on," the Doctor replied casually, his hands remaining casually in his pocket as if she weren't currently wrapped around his neck. "Earth is a vibrant planet with flora and fauna and whatever the short, fat fairy is called, the blue one. Merryweather, that was it! And all the other Disney films of course. The Jungle Book, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, Dumbo, the Lion King. The proper ones, not those... ok you're choking me now."

"I know," she breathed in his ear, and squeezed tighter.

"Look I'm sorry," the Doctor said frantically. "I would have been back sooner but I got sidetracked, I get sidetracked quite easily you know..." he made a few unintelligible croaking noises and Broxa loosened her hold slightly. "I didn't even intend to talk about Disney, it just came out. I was going to talk about the weather and people and football and coffee."

"Coffee isn't a good thing," Broxa interrupted. "It's horrible!"

"And chocolate," the Doctor added.

Broxa gasped as a sudden memory forced its way into her mind: the moment she had first tasted chocolate. Cracking like glass as she bit into it and then slowly melting into her mouth, igniting a taste explosion unlike any she had experienced before. Sweet and creamy, and yet slightly bitter all at the same time, completely overriding all other senses, making time stand still.

She released her grip and dropped to the ground. "Ok, I forgive you," she said.

"I am sorry," the Doctor repeated, acting as if nothing had happened. "But I'm here now, so how have you been finding life here."

She shrugged. "I could get used to it," she said, "but between you and me I don't think Larry is enjoying it so much."

"You haven't been misbehaving have you?" he scolded light-heartedly.

"Of course not," she grinned mischievously. She beckoned him over to the table and sat back down in front of the laptop.

"Mr. Nightingale!" the Doctor exclaimed as Larry finally came back over, "how have you been?"

"Good to see you again," Larry smiled, placing Broxa's hot chocolate on the table and pulling his hand away quickly before Broxa snatched it away. "Did you want anything."

"I'm fine," the Doctor shook his head. "No Sally?"

"Doctor's appointment," Larry replied. "Don't worry, nothing serious."

"Shame, I was looking forward to seeing her again," the Doctor said distantly. "So, you had something to show me?"

Broxa held up the fifth disc of the Firefly Ultimate Collection. "You'll like this," she grinned enthusiastically, and loaded it into the disc tray.

"I've seen them all before," he nodded. "Proof beyond doubt that Joss Whedon is a genius and that Fox is run by a bunch of monkeys, same company that cancelled Family Guy, twice, and let George Lucas keep all the rights to Star Wars because they had no faith in its longevity. But as good as it is, I can watch it any time really. What's going on?"

"We found an Easter Egg," Larry said. "Like the one you sent to me and Sally."

"Intriguing," the Doctor said. He quickly pulled up a chair and sat down next to Broxa. "And I didn't really send it to you did I, it was Sally that I sent it to, you just wrote down the script for me."

The title screen came up and Broxa quickly found the link that she had stumbled upon by accident the previous night, opened it up and after a few seconds the image of a man's head and shoulders appeared on screen.

"If you have already experienced the first part of this Easter Egg skip to scene two now..."

"Yes, yes, we know that," Broxa said and skipped forward a scene.

The Doctor remained completely frozen in shock, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of him. "But..." he breathed, "how?"

"You know him then," Larry observed.

"That's the Informant!" the Doctor exclaimed. "You little copycat! I did it first!"

"Yes I know," the Informant said with a grin.


	8. Stone 2

**Author's note: As the Mayan calender comes to its end, many predict the end of the world. I am here to assure you that this is complete bullshit, the calender's end signals the start of a new era, which doesn't mean the world has to end for it to come about. But if it does end then you all still have a few minutes of your remaining life to enjoy the latest part of my saga, how generous of me.**

**There is no good reason for this part to have taken as long as it has to finish and upload, I have been incredibly busy with real world stuff. I only hope the wait lives up to your expectations.**

* * *

The asteroid split off from its original path, following a mysterious calling from the Planet locally known as Earth. Curiosity drove it more than anything else, for it knew about Earth and its history, therefore it knew beyond doubt that there was no way that anyone on that planet should have the technology to send a message to it. Even if they did, why would someone send such an invitation to it? And how did they know of its origin, few knew the secret it contained, and if they did they would surely know better than to ask it to come to their poor, defenceless, class five world.

For these reasons it changed its course. Whoever had summoned it had summoned it for a reason, knowing of the many calculating minds that hid inside, and they were eager to find out why. And when they got there the true worth of the planet could be analysed, the risks a potential invasion force would face, the spoils that could be won.

It passed through a nebula and the signal was temporarily lost, but it knew the way, it had spied Earth many times. All voyagers through the stars knew of the third rock from the sun and of its beauty and innocence, capped with death and danger and greater malevolence than even the moons of Sontar. A terrifying world, yet so full of hope and inviting lights. Both inviting and repelling in its nature, yet the asteroid never stopped, curving behind one of outer planets to hide its approach. Soon it would arrive and the Earthlings would be reminded of their insignificance once more.

* * *

The Doctor stared at the computer screen completely lost for words. The Informant, another Time Lord survivor of the Last Great Time War, he had only revealed himself very recently, and had promptly been killed after one too many betrayals. A man shrouded in mystery, incredibly secretive, and very good at hiding; he must have been good to have survived for so long without the Doctor learning of his existence. It was only now, after his death, that he was starting to realise the impact the Informant must have had on the universe.

"So," the Doctor said conversationally, "what have you been up to?"

"Oh I've been around," the Informant said vaguely.

"Who is he?" Broxa asked.

"This is the Informant," the Doctor said.

"Hello," the Informant waved from the screen, giving them all a wide grin.

"Yes we got that," Larry replied. "But who is he?"

"He's a Time Lord," the Doctor explained, "just like me, only learnt of his existence about a year ago. I'm guessing he was hiding from me out of shame."

"Shame?" Broxa questioned. "What did he do?"

"It's more what he didn't do, isn't that right Informant," he sneered at the slightly uncomfortable face on the screen. "Last Great Time War, rather than joining your brothers and fighting for the fate of the universe you hid in a corner and sold secrets to the enemy. You are probably the reason we lost in the end."

"That's not true!" The Informant exclaimed. "I had a very specific role."

"Oh yes," the Doctor leaned back and folded his arms, "a cheese one was it?"

The Informant snorted with laughter. "Very good," he giggled, "no, it was a ham one. Ham and egg and with little sprinkles of paprika."

"No mayonnaise?" The Doctor questioned.

"Of course there was," the Informant nodded, "I thought that went without saying."

"What kind?"

He started to answer but decided against it. "That's not important right now," he said.

"No, I want some answers," the Doctor insisted.

"I just did."

"No you didn't," the Doctor exclaimed, "you just joined in with my sarcasm. Explain yourself!"

"Do we really need to do this now?" The Informant questioned.

"I'm not going to have another chance," the Doctor said. "I don't care how long it takes, just explain yourself."

"This is hardly the time or the place," the Informant replied, "but if you insist." He paused and cleared his throat before continuing. "I am the Informant. I am a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. As is customary I was taken before the council when I was six years old and made to look into Eye of Harmony."

"Yes, we know all this," the Doctor said irritably. "Skip forward to the Time War."

"Right," the Informant nodded uncertainly. "The Time Lords, in their arrogance assumed they were untouchable, only a single step down from gods. This drew the jealousy and envy of many others, most notable of all was the Faction Paradox."

"Who later revealed themselves to be puppets of the Daleks," the Doctor finished. "Can we get to the part where you sell crucial secrets to the Daleks, thus ensuring that we could never beat them."

"All the Time Lords were called up to fight the Last Great Time War, a war than spanned even time and space, against the epitome of everything we stand against. The Daleks. Some fought on the front line, others commanded from the back, and many worked on projects to strengthen our military prowess."

"Among other things," the Doctor commented. He could not forget the results of one of those experiments and the catastrophe it had caused.

The Informant nodded in agreement. "I took on a completely different role, I ran across time and space, visiting all the battle fields and command centres picking up as much information as I could and relaying them back to those who needed it. The results of battles far away, which fleets were moving where, who was sleeping with who, if that was what you were interested in, what new developments would soon be sent to the front, who had just become the new President." He emphasised this last point, the meaning was not lost on the Doctor.

"How come I never received any of this?" The Doctor wondered.

"I couldn't talk to everyone," he replied. "Eventually though, this wasn't enough, mere troop movement wasn't going to help our effort, what we needed was information on the enemies movement, and to do that I had to infiltrate the Dalek ranks. An adverse effect of this mission was that in order for the Daleks to trust me I had to feed them information on the Time Lords."

"Well what was the point in that!" The Doctor exclaimed. "They will have just cancelled each other out, all you succeeded in doing was creating an unbreakable stalemate."

"Not quite," the Informant corrected. "You see anything I would tell the Daleks would be speculation, mere rumours. Obviously I had to throw in some truths to avoid suspicion but I would always charge a king's ransom for these."

"But you were still giving them crucial information," the Doctor insisted.

"If you'll just let me explain," the Informant began but then stopped himself. "Actually, I'm a recording, I don't need to explain myself. Next question please."

The Doctor stared at the screen aghast. "You can't stop there!" He exclaimed.

"No I won't answer that one either," the Informant said distantly. "Next."

"That's your solution to everything is it?" He exclaimed. "You can't just bury your head in the sand whenever someone asks you a question you don't like."

"Can we skip to the more important questions perhaps," the Informant insisted.

"These are important questions," the Doctor said.

"What difference will it really make?" The Informant questioned harshly. "Seriously, every argument I make you're just going to smash down with your virtual sledgehammer. I'm done explaining, move on to the next one."

"Prove me wrong," the Doctor insisted. "Explain how your back stabbing of both Factions benefitted one over the other."

"No," the Informant shook his head, "I'm not explaining myself again."

"What do you mean again?" The Doctor spotted.

"Perhaps the Mayor should check her phone," the Informant suggested, ignoring, or perhaps not knowing of, the Doctor's question.

"Oh, that's me!" Broxa said excitably patting herself down. "Now where is it," she growled when she failed to find it.

Larry calmly reached into his pocket and pulled out a flat smart phone. "I thought it would be safer if I kept hold of it this time," he said. She snatched it out his hand and eagerly unlocked it by sliding her finger across the screen. "You're welcome," he said sarcastically.

"Check the one of the news feeds," the Informant suggested.

She nodded and opened up the news feed as quickly as possible. "Australian Implosion Gifts England Series Victory?" She read out loud.

"Try the next one."

The Doctor was looking other her shoulder and was the first one to realise what the Informant was referring to. His eyes widened in shock. "Asteroid Crash Lands Outside East Anglian Observatory! How did you manage that?" He demanded.

The Informant sighed heavily. "That's right blame me, I told you about it so therefore it must be my fault. Why am I telling you about it then?"

"That's a good question," the Doctor agreed, "asteroids hit this planet all the time, what's so special about this one? Have you planted a virus on it that is going to turn humans that it infects into mindless zombies, no sorry, that's the Disney channel, but something along those lines anyway, and you are challenging me to sort it out in 48 hours while laughing and twirling your moustache in the background."

"And what would be the point in that?" The Informant questioned.

"It's what you lot normally do," the Doctor shrugged, "I've never fully understood it myself."

"Perhaps my name wasn't enough of a clue. I'm the Informant."

"Is that a bit like the Riddler?" The Doctor asked innocently. "Except instead of leaving riddles behind you leave messages bluntly explaining that it was you and why you are doing it."

Larry snorted causing the Informant to turn his attention on him. "Rather than laughing Songbird, perhaps you should remind the Doctor that the more time he wastes here the less time he has to stop the real villain."

"Alright, alright," the Doctor said defensively, "who's the man that is making lumps of rock fall out of the sky for his own amusement?"

"It's not a man," the Informant stated, his voice taking on an edge that the Doctor had not heard on him before. It took him a second to realise what it was: fear. Whatever it was it was no laughing matter to have caused a Time Lord to be afraid. He signalled for him to continue. "It's a Kamelion."

Of all the things the Informant could have named, the Doctor certainly hadn't expected that. "When he says chameleon," Larry said, "I assume he doesn't mean the colour changing lizard."

"It's an android," the Doctor explained. "One that changes its appearance. Completely harmless for the most part, mostly for spying or infiltration, last one I encountered spent most of his time pretending to be Elvis Presley; hence the rumours that he never actually died. They are completely reliant on someone to guide them, so when you say a Kamelion what you actually mean is some evil trickster whom is controlling it."

"No," the Informant corrected gravely. "I mean a Kamelion, the sixth Kamelion. Not the weak willed original, the mindless third and fourth ones or the jolly Elvis impersonating fifth that you took under your wing. This is something very different."

"Awww, is the Informant scared of a little android," the Doctor teased.

"Well you can't say I didn't try to warn you," the Informant replied.

"Suit yourself," the Doctor shrugged. "What does the _Kamelion_ want?"

"Us I believe," he replied, "he wasn't very clear on the subject, only that he wants us dead."

"Again?" Broxa exclaimed.

"And what has making an asteroid crash onto this planet got to do with wanting us dead?" The Doctor questioned.

"Hold up a minute," Larry interjected. "What do you mean again?"

"The overall plan is something different," the Informant explained, as Broxa quickly explained to Larry of the Assassins of Sundew that she and the Doctor had encountered not that long ago, "but being Time Lords we are seen as obstacles that need to be removed."

"Ok," the Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "Do you know what the overall plan is?"

"Yes."

Silence followed. A young boy on the opposite table glanced over them and began to stare at something under the table, his mouth hanging open and dribbling out of the side of it.

"You may want to cross your legs, Mayor," the Informant said.

Larry looked down to see that Broxa was sat with her legs apart and the skirt of her dress hitched above her knees, then he noticed the child gawping. "Broxa! Legs!" He cried.

The Doctor glanced down briefly as she sheepishly crossed her legs but quickly turned his attention back to the Informant. "Well," he said, "are you going to enlighten us?"

"No," the Informant shook his head. "You need to work that one out yourself."

"Why?" The Doctor challenged. "It would be much easier if you just told me straight away."

"All you need to know is that he is on the loose and that you need to stop him," the Informant explained.

"What do you mean: I need to stop him?" The Doctor noticed suspiciously. The Informant said nothing. "It's your fault isn't it!" The Doctor exclaimed. "You set it loose or you've already encountered it and are trying to palm the responsibility of stopping it off on me! Well I'm sorry to disappoint you but it doesn't work like that. If you have a problem you need to sort it yourself, responsibilities are not the sort of thing that should be passed on like chain mail, you know."

"Well that seems like as good a place to stop this as any," the Informant grinned cheekily. "I'll trust you to get on it right away."

"No, not until you explain yourself," the Doctor insisted.

"Thank you so much for taking the time to watch this Easter Egg all the way through," the Informant carried on regardless, "the Angels no longer have the phone box, but the stone soldiers may get it soon. Don't blink, do not turn you back, live long and prosper, winter is coming so always pay your debts, the Ogre has fallen in love with the princess, I'm so in love with you, burns the soul, make love your goal, the Earth got used up so we terraformed a whole new galaxy, gotta catch 'em all, the senior partners are watching you, the destiny of a great kingdom rests on the shoulders of a young man, may the force be with you, nobody makes the first jump, in chess the pawns move first, I would have promoted you if you were not green, I had an accident and woke up in 1973, one does not simply walk into Mordor, Glory isn't a demon, she's a god, so long and thanks for all the fish, the next round is called one song to the tune of another, knowledge is power, the boys of the NYPD choir were singing Galway bay, with great power comes great responsibility, as it is written, so it shall be, and one of the brethren shall go out hunting the night before, and get himself killed, because he couldn't wait to finish his job before he ate, oh wait, that's not written anywhere, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and most importantly of all: don't blink! Good luck."

"Was any of that not copied from elsewhere?" The Doctor asked.

"Nope," the Informant shook his head. "This Easter Egg was brought to you by," he announced, then he turned to look at something off screen and added: "and that's where you'll put in the relevant sponsor, ok? Now how do you turn this thing off?"

There was silence for a while eventually broken by Larry: "Is he always like that?" he asked.

"I have absolutely no idea," the Doctor replied after a short pause. "I don't think so, but I don't know him very well."

"What now then?" Broxa asked.

"We need to get to wherever it is that this asteroid is landed," the Doctor replied, "find out what the big deal is. As loathe as I am to sort out someone else's mess it would be foolish to allow this to go unchecked. We shall pick up Sally and then head on up to it."

"Ok," Larry stood up and closed the laptop, failing to notice the black screen return to an image of the Informant's face. "Let's go."

"Yes let's!" the Doctor jumped to his feet and started to sing:

"_On the road again -  
Just can't wait to get on the road again.  
The life I love is making music with my friends"_

"Oh please don't," Larry interrupted.

"Oh alright then," the Doctor moaned, breaking off. "Once more into the breach dear friends, warp eight." And he strode purposefully from the cafe forcing his companions to sprint in order to catch up.

* * *

**Author's note: Hopefully the world doesn't end so we can all get a chance to see what happens next. If we live I shall return after Christmas with the next part to reveal the true nature of the asteroid. Merry Christmas!  
**

**P.S. a round of applause to anyone who gets all the quotes that the Informant nicked.  
**

**Song: On the Road Again by Willie Nelson**


	9. Stone 3

"Sorry, sir, the area is closed until further notice," the police officer explained. "You'll have to return later."

"That's a little inconvenient," the Doctor replied, "we need to see the asteroid now."

After picking up Sally from the doctor's, there had been no problem, or at least that was what she said, the Doctor sensed that there was something she was not telling them, they had got straight on the motorway and made their way to the asteroid landing site in East Anglia. Unfortunately upon arrival they had discovered that the entire area had been sealed off by police barriers. The Doctor saw this as a positive sign, it meant that Torchwood had already set up their investigation, but now they couldn't get in themselves.

"Well you can't," the officer repeated helplessly, "not until the investigation is over."

"Investigation!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Do they think someone has murdered it or something? Perhaps someone needs to explain to your investigating officers that a lump of rock cannot be killed."

The officer held up his hands defensively. "Nothing to do with us," he said. "Special branch do like to follow up on strange projects. They may well think the asteroid is the murderer, knowing them."

The Doctor turned and grinned at the other passengers in the car. "You see, I told you Torchwood would be here. That's five quid you all owe me."

"No we don't," Sally admonished from the back seat. "None of us agreed to any bet with you, and for all we know this special branch that he refers to may not be the Torchwood you keep banging on about."

The Doctor looked back and grinned at her. "You would have been such a good companion, Sally."

He turned back to the officer who looked as if he had just been slapped. "How do you know about Torchwood?" He breathed.

"You can learn many things if you know where to look," the Doctor winked. "But in this case I have simply had dealings with Torchwood in the past, I'm close friends with their leader, well I used to be, he probably will still consider me a friend at this stage though. And I appreciate how difficult it is for you when Torchwood swoops in and takes over, forcing you to simple guard duty when you were already doing such a good job yourself. I have a lot of respect for the police, you keep going come rain or shine, or politicians calling you plebs, regardless of what life throws at you."

"They're not so bad," the officer shrugged. "They at least remember that we are human beings, not like that army wing that recently disbanded."

"UNIT?"

"That's the one."

Once again the Doctor cursed the gentlemen whom had forced him to disband UNIT, it would save him a lot of time if he could simply flash his old pass and be allowed through whenever he came upon this sort of situation.

"They really treated us like dirt," the officer continued. "Ponsy bastards."

"Yes, they did take a dark turn," the Doctor agreed. "But they were alright back in the seventies. Anyway, we'll leave the car here, that won't be any trouble will it?"

"No not at..." He stopped himself just in time. He grinned like a teacher who has just discovered a pair of pupils snogging in the bike shed. "Oh no, you're not catching me out that easily."

The Doctor blinked. This was a first, it wasn't often that someone didn't cave under the pressure of his casual conversation, this was going to be harder than he thought. He opened his mouth to say something else but was spoken over by Broxa.

"Just xessing let us in you smeghead!" She shouted. "The world is going to end and we need to be in there to stop it!"

There was silence for a moment, the officer staring at Broxa in confusion, she glaring back at him, the Doctor's eyes brightening up as an idea suddenly formed, Larry looking slightly sheepish and Sally giving him a look of despair.

"Really, Larry?" Sally exclaimed. "Red Dwarf!"

"It's a classic," he replied defensively.

"It is," the Doctor agreed. Then, putting his idea into practice he added. "I'm sorry Broxa but he's not going to budge."

"You can't give up now!" Broxa exclaimed in horror.

"Nothing I can do," he shrugged. He leaned towards the officer and continued in an undertone. "I'm really sorry about her, she is obsessed with the stars and as soon as she heard about the asteroid she insisted that we come and see it. I'm sorry to impose this on you. We'll just get out of your hair and work out something different to show her that we can convince is an asteroid."

He turned to tell Larry to drive off. "Wait!" the officer cried, placing his hand on the roof of the vehicle. The Doctor looked at him expectantly as he leaned towards him. "She's not a, err... She's not mad is she."

"Well that depends on your..." The Doctor began but cut himself off. "No she isn't," he amended.

"Well, I could let you in for a little bit," the officer offered, "but only so long as you stay out of they're way. Don't do anything to get me into trouble."

"Done!" the Doctor took hold of his hand and shook it vigorously. "We'll be as good as gold."

They exited the car and thanked the officer in turn, Broxa hugging him tightly and getting thoroughly confused when no one else did; the Doctor explained upon questioning that you didn't have to hug every single time.

"How did you get him to do that?" Larry asked once they were out of earshot.

"Years of practice," the Doctor replied. "Right, we need to stick together for the time being, remember that they are on our side and that they know all about aliens and stuff, but try not to mention any Kamelion, he could already be here, and the last thing we want is any panic, let them think that this is a routine alien encounter, and don't let the Kamelion know we are onto him. Let's go team."

"Yeah!" Broxa agreed. "Go go Power Rangers!"

"Is watching telly the only thing you have done since I last saw you?" The Doctor questioned.

"No," she shook her head. "I've watched DVDs on his laptop as well."

* * *

Asteroids hit Earth all the time, it was part of the natural order of the universe. Even the average thick ape that called itself a human being understands this. Eric Peterson lit a cigarette, took a deep puff and stared at asteroid wondering what was different about this one compared to the all the others he had seen.

Eric had only been an operative for Torchwood for a few months, following a murder which he had been investigating turning out to be the work of an alien, since impressing the leader with his deduction skills he had joined the team and aided them in many threats to humanity. But none of them had been anything like this asteroid. In fact it looked incredibly normal, almost boring, certainly not worthy of Torchwood's attention. Except that Eric knew that this wasn't a normal asteroid.

He had noticed, while others hadn't, that the asteroid had come out of nowhere; it had not followed a normal arc, or a normal speed, to hit Earth. Further investigation had determined that this particular asteroid had been part of a cluster that had been circling the galaxy and had, last night, suddenly changed its course. The remains of the cluster had continued on their previous arc, but for some reason this asteroid hadn't.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke as the ex-UNIT scientists that they had hired bustled about, performing their tests that Eric didn't fully understand. They would find something out of the ordinary, he was certain of it, but what would that mean for humanity? Was this like the all the children on Earth chanting in unison a few years back.

"Don't you know it's bad to smoke," a voice said in his ear as a hand pulled the cigarette out of his mouth.

Eric rounded on the newcomer snarling and was met with a grinning young man, dressed rather strangely in his opinion. "Who on earth are you?" He exclaimed after a moment of silence.

"I'm here to help you with your asteroid problem," the man replied. "You can call me the Doctor. This is Sally Sparrow, Larry Nightingale and Broxa... Mayor, yes, Broxa Mayor. They are my assistants."

"Another one?" Eric pulled out his box of cigarettes. "I think we have all the help we need right now, thank you." He pointedly put a new cigarette in his mouth and lit it with his lighter. The effect was ruined when the lighter failed to ignite.

"Not a Doctor," the Doctor tutted. "_The_ Doctor. Time Lord with two hearts, defender of the Earth. Ring any bells?"

Eric raised his eyebrows and returned his attention to his broken lighter. "Either leave now, or I'll get someone to throw you out," he said nonchalantly.

"Sworn enemy," the Doctor suggested. "The whole reason Torchwood was set up in the first place?"

Eric gave up with his lighter and returned the cigarette to the packet. "Look we are really busy at the moment," he said, "I'm sure someone here will happily role play with you later."

"I thought you said they knew you," Larry said.

"Clearly he isn't as famous as he claims to be," Sally agreed.

The Doctor ignored the dig, turning his attention to the other people in the area. "Is Martha around?" He hollered. A few people looked up but quickly returned to their work. However, while the name meant nothing to any of the scientists it clearly meant something to Eric.

"Martha Smith-Jones?" He questioned.

"Yes," the Doctor nodded, "is she around."

"Scotland," Eric explained. "How exactly do you know her?"

"Oh that's annoying," the Doctor muttered, ignoring the question. "What about Mickey?"

"He's with her. How exactly do you know them?"

"Have you really never heard of me?" The Doctor questioned in earnest. "The Doctor. Saviour of the universe too many times to count, and saviour of Earth even more times."

"Doesn't ring any bells," Eric shook his head.

"I travel around time and space saving worlds from alien threats," the Doctor explained quickly, "not unlike what you lot are doing now. I'm not sure how much you know about your own history, not much by the looks of things, but I was there at the very start to inspire Torchwood's creation by queen Victoria following the attempt on her life by the werewolf."

"I'll have to stop you there," Eric cut in, "because I have no idea what you are talking about. What has this got to do with you and the Smith-Joneses?"

"Yes, I was just getting to that," the Doctor said irritably. "Most of the time I have a companion who travels with me, Martha and Mickey both travelled with me a few years ago." This wasn't strictly true, in his opinion they had travelled with him centuries ago, but in sticking with the current Earth timeline it had only been a few years so he had said that for simplicity.

"But they're not now?" Eric questioned.

"Well obviously not, they work for Torchwood now," the Doctor admonished. "Or at least they should be. What are they doing in Scotland if you are all here looking at the asteroid?"

"I don't think I should tell you," Eric said. "You could be anyone, pretending that you know the Smith-Joneses in order to gain access to our secrets."

"Who would want to do that?"

"A reporter," Eric said with the certainty of a man who has had to suffer the misery of reporters countless times.

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, good point. But would a reporter have two hearts?"

Eric blinked. "Two hearts?"

The Doctor took him by the shoulders and pulled him close to him. "Here, listen."

Eric tried to resist, until his ear was placed against the Doctor's chest and he heard the beating of a heart that was in the wrong place. He hurriedly moved to the other side of the chest then pulled away with a look of awe on his face.

"You're an alien," he breathed.

"Twelve out of ten!" The Doctor exclaimed.

"Doctor."

"Not now Broxa," he dismissed. "So, are you going to let me have a look at the asteroid now?"

"Well we already have many experts looking at it," Eric said pessimistically, "I'm not sure what else you could add." The Doctor simply stared back, not deeming that comment worthy of a reply. He looked down in embarrassment as it dawned on him. "Oh right," he said, "alien intelligence. This way."

"Like squeezing blood from a stone," Sally muttered.

Eric tried igniting his lighter once again as they walked over. "Why now?" He asked.

"Why not," the Doctor shrugged. "I was in the area, thought it was worth a little look."

"You noticed the strange arc then," Eric guessed. "What are we looking at? Can't be worse than those Hexalenes a couple of weeks back. But then again you actually turned up for this one."

"What's special about the arc?" Larry asked.

"You don't know? Well it didn't behave like an asteroid did it. Aha." His lighter finally ignited creating a tiny flame at the tip. He frantically reached for hid cigarettes, he swore as the lighter went out again.

The Doctor jogged down the side of the crater that had been created by the impact and skipped straight over to the asteroid, placing his hand on its side. "You beauty" he breathed.

"Do you want us to leave you two alone?" Sally teased.

He did not reply, he strode around the outside, tracing the contours with his fingers, coming to a halt at a seemingly random point where he gently rubbed the palm of his hand up and down. His knife appeared in his other hand and the golden blade flicked open. With the deftness of a brain surgeon he scratched the surface of the rock, catching a few flakes on the back of his hand.

"Salty," he said after dipping his tongue into it. "Dozens of impurities, nothing toxic, that's a relief, melting in my mouth, chalky. Why is it chalky? There's something else... There's nothing else. That's not a bad thing, taste is imperfect, the lack of anything else tells us a lot as well." He sniffed the rest. "Smokey, sodium, calcium, yttrium, definitely outside influence, this rock is not natural. There's something else I can't put my finger on. What do you think Broxa?" He turned to where the cannibal should have been and made a big show of looking surprised when she wasn't there.

"Where is she?" Eric questioned.

"Oh no," Larry moaned, "what's she up to now?"

"Don't worry she can look after herself," the Doctor shook his hands clean and turned back to the asteroid. He had noticed her absence the second she had chosen to sneak off, clearly having spotted something worthy of investigation. He had been worried that her senses were being dulled from living on Earth for so long so this was heartening to see, but Larry's reaction proved that he at least had been trying to suppress her. It would be good to start travelling again, just the two of them. He put his ear against the asteroid and rapped it with his knuckles as Eric hailed another man in the clearing.

"Could you go and look for a dark haired girl about this high?" he held up a hand against his chest to demonstrate her height. "Make sure she isn't causing any trouble."

"A girl Eric?" The man questioned with a knowing grin. "Girlfriend or daughter?"

"Nothing to do with me."

"Is she pretty?"

"If you think she is you can ask her for her number," Eric bit out. "I surely don't have to do everything for you. Just bring her back here." The man licked his lips and eagerly jogged off. "Oh wait, have you got a light?"

"Sorry mate," he shook his head.

Eric turned back to the Doctor to the sound of an aha. He tapped the asteroid a few more times and then pulled away. His arms in a star shape he pressed them against the rock and brushed them upwards until his hands met above his head. There was a loud click and a hiss then a split appeared down the centre of the previously faultless rock, orange light shining through the gap. Further cracks simultaneously spread out from the centre of the first creating an image like a star. A whir accompanied the individual triangles of rock as they opened up like a flower.

Eric was the first to the opening that had been created. He hovered just outside the entrance gazing in wonder. "It opens up!"

"Twelve out of ten!" The Doctor exclaimed. "It's a ship actually, which is why its arc changed so dramatically."

"A ship? But who's flying it?"

"Only one way to find out," the Doctor strode purposefully inside without waiting for a reply, confident that he would be followed.

* * *

He had continuously glanced suspiciously at them always averting his gaze when one of them looked back. Broxa had resorted to staring at him continuously and eventually he had walked off; reluctantly, trying to act casual but not fooling Broxa for one instant. It had to be the Kamelion, posing as a man in a white coat to make sure they didn't do anything to mess up his plan, whatever that may be. She couldn't let him out of her sight, the Doctor would agree.

She had followed him all the way into a large, white building with a domed roof, and it was in one of the empty corridors that he finally confronted her. "Why are you following me?" He exclaimed. "Leave me alone!"

"You started it," she pointed out. "You were staring at us."

"I wasn't staring," he stammered.

"What were you doing then?" She challenged.

"I was just looking," he shrugged. "And then you started looking at me."

"Well you were looking at us, you were obviously studying us."

"No! Why would I be doing that?"

She stepped forward and grinned elfishly, showing off her pointy teeth and making him step backwards into the wall nervously. "Let's not play games, cupcake," she said. "You and me both know that you're the Kamelion."

"I'm a chameleon? What?"

"You were assessing us for danger! trying to determine how much we know!" She jumped forward and grabbed him by the collar causing him to bend double. "Well I'll tell you this, we know all about you, we were warned of your coming and the Doctor will stop whatever your planning. And I have seen through your disguise, you cannot fool me, you can either admit defeat and let us fix the damage you are about to cause, or I can start unscrewing some of your bolts."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" The man shouted.

Broxa frowned and sniffed him, then she poked his cheek. She let go and stepped back in disappointment. "You're a human."

"What's all this?" A new man strode down the corridor. He was fat and had a white, bushy moustache going down the side of his mouth.

"Dr. Morsprima!" The man exclaimed. "Thank goodness, she's completely mad."

"I'm sure it's all a big misunderstanding," Morsprima smiled. "Who are you girl?"

"I'm Broxanna," Broxa answered, "but most people call me Broxa."

"Broxanna," Morsprima repeated silkily, almost testing the word on his tongue. "And you think that this poor man is a lizard that changes colour to blend into its environment?"

"It's not a lizard," she corrected, "it's a robot that changes its appearance."

"Interesting," Morsprima said.

"But it's not him, I was mistaken," she said sadly.

"Oh well, I suppose it is easy to be mistaken," Morsprima reassured her.

"I need to go the Doctor will be missing me," she turned and walked out the way she had come in.

"The Doctor's companion," Morsprima said once she was out of earshot. "He's got onto this far sooner than I was expecting."

"I beg your pardon?" The man said in confusion.

Morsprima turned to him with a malicious grin. "Whoops, I accidentally spoke my secret thoughts out loud again. Is the job you do important?"

"Um, no not really."

"That's alright then," Morsprima nodded and quickly crushed the poor man's windpipe. There was no way Shest was going to allow for any witnesses.

* * *

The size of the corridor suggested that the inhabitants of the asteroid, that was really a spaceship, were very tall and broad. All the controls were very large to accommodate massive hands and too high up for even the Doctor's tall stature to reach comfortably; luckily there were no doors that needed to be opened. The orange glow that permeated off every surface was inducing headaches in all but the Doctor and grew brighter the further they went. Finally the corridor opened up into a massive circular room.

Five open cubicles ringed the outside of the room each one facing the centre where a column of rock jutted out of the floor. "Crew of five," the Doctor noted. "Each one stands in a specific cubicle performing a specific job, looking towards that central column where the specific data is displayed, a holographic orb projected off the peak if I remember rightly."

"But where are the crew then?" Eric questioned. "Is it abandoned? Is that why it crash landed here?" he continued to gaze about the room in wonder. His encounters with alien species had not prepared him for the reality of an actual spaceship. Larry and Sally were similarly awed, but to a lesser extent, having previously been inside the TARDIS.

"They will be sleeping," the Doctor answered. "Put themselves into a suspended animation while their ship lands, always puzzled me why they always insist on landing in such a fashion. Have they never heard of landing gear or reverse thrust at the very least."

"Are they hostile?" Eric asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "Who knows, depends on whether this ship belongs to a calm group that only attacks if threatened or one that goes around looking for trouble."

"So what are we doing here then?" Larry questioned, standing inside one of the cubicles that made him look like a child in comparison.

"Didn't you want to see what an alien spaceship looks like?" the Doctor asked back.

"Well, it's quite cool," Larry shrugged, "but I would have thought you would have some sort of plan."

"I need to find out more about them before I come up with a plan," the Doctor turned to him and grinned cheekily. "And how do you know I don't just improvise?"

"Hey what's this?" Eric pointed at large gun like object hanging on the wall by the entrance to a second corridor.

"That's a weapon," the Doctor answered. "It spits fire out of one end. Not very commonly used though, most prefer to use axes."

Eric tentatively pressed a button on the side experimentally and jumped when a burst of flame shot out of what he deemed to be the wrong end. He cautiously pressed it again and watched the flame flicker for a few seconds, then he pulled out a cigarette and lit it carefully, he ended the fire and took a deep puff.

"Typical smoker," the Doctor muttered.

"Doctor," Sally hissed, "are we really safe here?"

"We should be," the Doctor nodded. "Just so long as no one..." He trailed off as a realisation dawned on him. "Eric, out that out, now!"

Eric turned to the sound of the shout holding the cigarette between his fingers and pointing the glowing tip over his shoulder without thinking about it. "Why?"

It was at that moment that the owners of the spaceship made their appearance, clomping down the corridor on huge cloven feet. A massive creature with the body of a huge man and the head of a goat came into the room, its yellow colouring and rigidness made it seem as if it were made of rock, sand crumbling off its joints as it moved; the four behind it were no different. All but one carried a long handled axe which they used to like a staff, placing its end on the floor with every step they took.

The leader took one look at the glowing ember of Eric's lit cigarette and snorted, spraying sand on the Torchwood operative. It raised its axe and swung with both hands, cleanly slicing his head in two; killing him instantly.

"Doctor, I'm looking at them and they're still moving," Larry said nervously.

"They're not angels you idiot, those are Arekorns!" the Doctor replied. "I was hoping we could have a reasonable talk, but our Torchwood friend has just ruined it for us."

"By dying?"

"No by pointing a red hot ember at them," he corrected. "Biggest insult in they're culture."

"Well why didn't you warn us?!" Sally exclaimed.

"I was just about to!" the Doctor shouted back.

The Arekorns stepped over the corpse and glared at the Doctor and his remaining companions. The Doctor held up his hands defensively. "Ok, I'm sorry for trespassing and for his pointing that ember at you, but that's all a big misunderstanding. He wasn't to know. I was hoping we could just talk about this calmly like-"

He was cut off as the Arekorn without a weapon began to baa like a sheep. Not the innocent baaing that makes sheep sound cute, a deep sonorous baa that echoed around the room, one that demonstrated his anger aggression. The others quickly followed suit, adding their own aggressive bleating to the cacophony; in a less dire situation the Doctor would stop to admire the layers to the noise.

"Run!" he shouted.

"What?"

"I said: Run!" he shouted even louder. "Fucking, xessing run!"

He turned and sprinted down the corridor, and was glad to notice that Sally and Larry were following. The leader of the Arekorns stopped bleating and snarled at the corridor they had escaped down. He turned to the Arekorn next to him and spoke in a deep, powerful voice.

"After them," he ordered.

The Arekorn bleated in response, took its axe in both hands and charged down the corridor leaving a great trail of sand in its wake.

* * *

**And the morale of this chapter is: Smoking kills.**

**For those who have forgotten: Arekorn is the species of the Superior Caprinite whom we met in Sun And Shadows (Part six of the Long Regeneration), I liked the concept so much that I decided to bring the species back as villains in they're own right.**

**I hope that everyone had a wonderful Christmas and New Year, it is good to be back, fortnightly updates shall be the norm from this point onwards unless uni decides to choke me with work again.  
**


	10. Stone 4: Furiously Fast

**Furiously Fast**

"Ok, I'm back now," Broxa said irritably, "you can go now."

"But we're only just getting acquainted," the man who had been sent to look for her insisted.

"I don't want to get acquainted," Broxa bit back. "It sounds painful."

He chuckled and sidled up to her again. "I like you, you're funny. So many girls these days are so serious."

"I _was_ being serious," Broxa insisted.

He ignored this comment as he took hold of her hand. "I'm a sort of secret agent you know," he drawled, "I help protect the world from alien threats."

She pulled her hand away sharply and gave a perplexed look. "You trying to impress me?"

"Is it working?"

"No, I fight aliens all the time."

"Really?" He exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "Wow, we do have a lot in common."

Broxa was saved from further courting attempts as the Doctor, Sally and Larry came sprinting out of the crater that the asteroid was in. She quickly intercepted and was pleased to find that the man had not followed; he recognised when he was pushing his luck.

He sighed and strolled over to a woman who was sat at a table, staring intently at a laptop screen. "You're single at the moment aren't you Lois?" He asked casually.

"Not that it's any of your business," she replied without looking up, "but yes."

"Well there was this nice girl here a second ago that-"

"Oh for the last time, Toby!" She snapped. "Me refusing to sleep with you does not make me a lesbian!"

"Sure," he smirked. "You keep telling yourself that."

"Same applies to that poor girl as well," she continued. "You can be a right pig sometimes, Toby."

He would have replied to that but he was interrupted by a scream that echoed around the entire area. A gun appeared in his hand as he rushed towards the sound, his demeanour completely changing. Before he could blink the Arekorn that had been selected to chase down the Doctor and his party came charging out of the crater. He fired a few shots at it but the giant ignored him so intent it was in its task.

He and Lois watched as it charged through the camp, completely ignoring everything; at one point even jumping over a man who had fallen over in its way. "Weird," he commented.

"It must have come out of the asteroid," Lois deducted, glancing towards it nervously.

"We'll keep a close watch on it," he said decisively. "You try to get hold of the captain."

There were no arguments as he rushed over to the asteroid, she quickly fumbled her phone out of her pocket and hurriedly found the number that would hopefully find the captain. He would know what to do. After all, he used to be a Time Agent.

* * *

"I'm surprised you didn't just hit him," the Doctor commented.

Broxa's eyes glazed over as if trying to remember something. "Violence never solves your problems?"

He almost stopped running as he stared back at her in shock. "Who are you and what have you done with Broxa?" He said eventually.

"I am Broxa," she replied uncertainly.

"It's just an expression."

Whatever Broxa was trying to say next was completely drowned out by a deep sonorous bleat, loudly echoing around the entire area, followed by a deep voice that shouted: "Rock killers!"

"Rock killers?" Sally echoed.

"Yes that's us," the Doctor nodded. "Silicon based life forms you see, their body structure is effectively rock, as such they feel a strong connection to all things mineral based. Almost all carbon based life forms in the universe at one point in their history or another partake in the act of mining, in doing so they end up destroying vast quantities of rock."

"And those Arry corn creatures liken that to murder do they?" Larry questioned.

"Effectively," the Doctor nodded. "And it's Arekorn, rhymes with Aragorn."

"Did you get to see the asteroid then?" The policeman who had let them in asked as they scrambled through the barrier.

"Do us a favour would you," the Doctor said in response. "Just on the off chance that some monster, something like, oh I don't know, a giant goat headed statue perhaps, comes running down here, don't antagonise it in any way. And certainly don't go pointing any lit cigarettes in its general direction."

"You what?"

The Doctor didn't respond straight away, he had already rushed over to the driver's side of the car. "As I said," he called back to him, "in the unlikely event that that does happen, I just wanted to make sure that you are prepared."

He slammed the door, the engine roared to life and the car reversed backwards followed by a j-turn to make it face the opposite direction. As the officer pondered as to what could have caused them to want to leave in such a hurry he heard a succession of booms behind him. He turned and froze in shock at the sight of the giant goat headed statue, that the Doctor had just described to him, charging towards him. The Arekorn gave an angry bleat and leaped over the top of him, not faltering in its pursuit for one second.

"They are completely single minded in all aspects," the Doctor explained as he drove. "When sent on a task they will not stop until they have completed it, at the expense of all else. So for once driving into the middle of a populated area is actually a very good idea."

"That doesn't sound very reassuring," Larry commented.

"Hold on, you mean they will ignore everyone else except for us?" Sally questioned.

"Twelve out of ten! He has been ordered to kill us, but not anyone else, therefore he will ignore all others despite its deeply ingrained xenophobia." He glanced to the passenger seat where Broxa was sitting. "That excludes you obviously Broxa as you weren't with us. Actually you should probably have stayed back at the landing site and kept an eye on the rest for us."

"And missed all this?" She questioned in response. "No xessing way!"

"Um I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Larry said uncertainly, glancing out of the rear window, "but its gaining on us."

"Don't Arekorns know about speed limits?" the Doctor tutted. "Oh well, I'll have to put up with a few extra points on my licence."

He gunned the accelerator pedal and the little fiat slowly gained velocity. An uneasy silence overcame the interior of the car with the Doctor concentrating on driving and the rest glancing nervously out of the back window at the Arekorn.

Broxa eventually broke the silence. "So, these Arekorns," she said. "What are their weaknesses? How do we fight them."

"By running and hiding until they go away," the Doctor replied.

"What? But you said-"

"Doesn't stop that from being the best thing to do," he interrupted. "I have met them a few times, true but I have yet to discover any weakness that can be easily exploited. There's no probic vent to hit or an eye stalk to shoot at, they slow down in the cold but that's not much use."

"Well what's wrong with that?" Broxa questioned.

"Praying for it to snow isn't a very reliable action to take," the Doctor replied. "But having said that..." he turned to Sally and Larry, "what sort of weather are we expecting?"

"It's July," Sally replied matter-of-factly.

"Ok, forget that then," he turned his attention back to the road and swerved around a slower moving vehicle.

"So we're buggered then," Larry stated. "You can't kill stone."

"Not strictly true," the Doctor corrected as his next overtaking manoeuvre caused a car horn to blare at him. "They are very like us in many respects, you cut my skin and I will bleed and it will hurt the same applies to the Arekorns, the difference being their skin is like rock so harder to break than ours and their blood is gritty. These aren't angels Larry."

Broxa nodded thoughtfully. "Why didn't you mention this earlier?" she questioned.

"I have yet to come across something with death on its mind that will react to being scratched with anything other than anger," the Doctor replied, "and he's angry enough don't you think."

"Well how have you defeated them before?" Sally questioned.

"Turned off the oxygen to the area they are populating, tricked them into an airlock, switched off the heating, allowed one to go toe to toe with a Judoon," The Doctor listed. "Not really anything I can recreate here, unless there is a freeze ray in the boot that I am not aware of."

Several horns blared as he went on the wrong side of the road to avoid a queue leading up to a roundabout, an Audi coming towards them in the opposite direction swerved to avoid them and two other cars collided on the roundabout. The Arekorn ignored the chaos as he came charging through a few seconds later, other than to bleat angrily at the people who had stepped out of their cars to survey the damage.

"Where are you going?" Sally questioned. "This will lead us straight to the village."

"Is that a problem? A densely populated area will slow him down," the Doctor replied.

"And us too," she pointed out, "probably more so, it's only a village."

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "True, it'll be sparsely populated enough for him to only be slowed a little bit while we will be very slow. The Arekorn will have passed the roundabout by now so turning round will probably be suicide."

He pulled on the handbrake and spun the steering wheel all the way to the right making the car violently spin all the way round. Once they were facing the opposite direction he gunned the accelerator again.

"What happened to going that way being suicide?" Larry exclaimed.

"I only said probably," the Doctor replied. "Let's see if our friend knows the rules to chicken."

Sally and Larry glanced at one another nervously and tenderly took each other by the hand. Even Broxa looked slightly worried, continuously glancing at the manic grin on the Doctor's face with concern. "Larry?" she glanced back at him. "Which one's chicken again?"

"The one where two cars face off and drive headlong at each other," he replied.

"Right, but we're the good guys right," she said hopefully, "we'll win wont we?"

"Oh why so glum chums," the Doctor chided. "You all need something to turn those frowns upside down." He switched the radio on and flicked through a few radio stations until he found an especially jolly tune; Love Today by Mika. "There, doesn't that make you feel much better!"

The chasing Arekorn performed its equivalent of a frown as it watched the vehicle that contained its targets turn around and start accelerating towards him. He didn't falter, he merely lowered his head slightly and bleated softly. It was about time those cowardly rock killers finally stood up to him like Billies. They may think that their pathetic Earth vehicle would be able to stop him, but he was going to show them.

"_Girl in a groove with a big bust on, big bust on, big bust on! Wait till your mother and your papa's gone, papa's gone!"_ the Doctor sang along with the radio, keeping his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the Arekorn, pleased to see it lower its head as it charged. "_Momma, momma papa! Shock shock me, shock shock me_. Now!" He shouted this last word as the Arekorn leaped into the air and brought its axe above its head.

The Doctor pulled on the handbrake once again and spun the steering wheel to make the car spin, this time, however, he ended the slide when the car had only turned through 90 degrees and made the car shoot across the other side of the road and off road. The Arekorn twisted through the air in an attempt to follow the cars sudden change of direction but only succeeded in causing himself to crash land on his side.

The car bounced wildly on the uneven surface so the Doctor aimed for road again as quickly as possible, keeping a close eye on the Arekorn as it struggled back to its feet. "Motorway sound like a better idea?" he questioned.

Sally nodded mutely, still stunned by the near death experience. Broxa on the other hand was grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, that was totally wicked!" she exclaimed.

* * *

The scientists had stopped their work under Toby's orders and several armed operatives were maintaining a careful perimeter around the asteroid's crater. Toby himself stood a few yards behind on a chair so that he could have the best view of the asteroid whilst avoiding standing on the front line. He looked down briefly as Lois came up to him before returning his gaze to the asteroid.

"Well?" he said.

"We've got Arekorns," she said. "Silicon based life forms with an irrational hatred of all other life forms."

Toby sighed heavily. "Why do we never get a species that simply wants to be loved? Is this an invasion force?"

"Unlikely," Lois replied. "He reckons that this is merely a scout ship, crew of five at a rough estimate."

"Minus the one that went running off into the countryside," he added. "What's happening with that one by the way?"

"He's dealing with that one apparently," she shrugged.

"Ok, how does he advise us to deal with the four that we have?"

"Don't attack unless they attack first and try not to antagonise them in any way."

"Is that it?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I guess he can't know how to deal with everything, he didn't seem very happy when he learnt it was them."

He smirked in amusement at this. "So our captain is fallible after all," he said. "Hold up something's happening." The asteroid slowly opened up in exactly the same way that it had for the Doctor. "Go hide somewhere," he said to Lois, she nodded meekly and disappeared.

Toby turned back to asteroid as something emerged from the opening that had just appeared. Another goat headed statue, just like the one he had seen charging out of the area, an Arekorn. It wasn't alone, three more followed, these ones armed with great, long handled axes. Four, the entire crew were out.

He heard the sound of several automatic weapons being cocked. "Hold your fire," he ordered.

The Arekorns stared at them, those that were armed tightening the grip on their weapons, snorting and bleating threateningly; mercifully no one attacked. That all changed when the unarmed one took a step forwards, one lad lost his nerve and fired a single shot.

"No!" Toby shouted, but the damage had already been done.

The Arekorn that had been struck examined the wound on its shoulder before rounding on the lad with an angry bleat; which was echoed by the others.

"Rock killers," the lead Arekorn growled.

It leaped forwards and headbutted the lad so hard that his skull shattered like an egg. The other armed men turned and unleashed relentless fire on the Arekorn which roared and flailed its arms sending those around flying. In their fervour to take down this one Arekorn they completely forgot about the other three and were taken unawares. The axes descended, there were screams of terror, the spurting and gushing as red fountains sprouted from freshly severed necks. Then there was silence.

"Bravo." They straitened up and turned to the new arrival who had spoken, a fat, old man with a bushy, white moustache, who was clapping his hands vigorously. "You truly are fine warriors," he continued.

"Your words will not save you, rock killer," the lead Arekorn boomed.

Morsprima looked down at the dead bodies with mock surprise. "You don't think I am with them do you?" He exclaimed. "No, no, no, I am completely independent from all governments in the known galaxy. You may call me Shest. I am the one who summoned you here."

"You did?" The lead Arekorn questioned. "Why?"

"I think it would be better if we discussed that matter somewhere more private," Shest responded. He beckoned them towards the observatory. "This way, oh Soldiers of Stone."

Without looking back he turned and strode back to the observatory, the Arekorns reluctantly following in his wake. All was still and Toby finally dared to poke his head out from under the table he had been cowering under.

"What is it about the phrase: hold your fire, that people don't understand?" He wondered aloud.

* * *

The little Fiat containing the Doctor and his party sped through another set of lights, narrowly avoiding a people carrier travelling perpendicularly. "Motorway," the Doctor pointed. "How is our friend?"

"Still with us," Larry replied. "That lorry slowed him a bit, but he's still coming."

"To be expected," the Doctor shrugged as he sped up the slip road. "But we can really put the hammer down now, nothing to slow us. He may be quick but we can, oh shit."

"I don't like the sound of that?" Sally said. "What's happening?"

"Traffic jam," he replied, as he brought the fiat to a standstill, behind the stationary traffic. "We need to get out of here." He switched off the engine and frantically pulled the door open.

"You can't go out there!" Sally exclaimed.

"We can hardly stay in there," the Doctor responded. "We have to keep moving or the Arekorn will get us for sure."

They sprinted down the sides of the stationary cars, glancing back occasionally, causing people in the cars they passed to glance back themselves in attempts to determine what they were running from. Except for one middle aged woman who stared at the Doctor with a look of horror.

"What happens if the traffic starts moving again?" Larry questioned suddenly.

The Doctor glanced back in time to spot the cars at the rear of the jam empty and the inhabitants started to run, screaming, towards them. "Not something we should be worrying about," he said.

As more people exited their cars the Arekorn reached the rear of the jam, snorted and leaped onto the roof of the nearest car and continued its pursuit, leaping from car roof to car roof. Broxa watched its advance with interest. It was slower than before, cautiously ensuring it had both feet on the car before leaping onto the next one, always landing on the same foot.

"Broxa come on, we need to keep moving," Sally called back to her.

Her head snapped round to them. "Doctor, give me your knife," she ordered.

"Are you mad!" Larry exclaimed, realising what she planned to do.

"He won't attack me," Broxa said matter-of-factly. "He is entirely focused on you three, I can use that to my advantage."

The Doctor regarded her very seriously. "The second you attack him his focus will include you as well, you will no longer be safe from him. You understand that?"

"I understand," she nodded.

"Very well," he tossed his golden penknife to her. She caught it expertly and she turned and started running back the way she had come.

"You're just letting her throw her life away like that?" Sally questioned.

"Broxa is made of far sterner stuff than you give her credit," he responded. "Either way, she's giving us a chance to get away, we should take it."

Broxa stalked down the road, eyeing up her prey with calculated precision. She had missed this, the hunt, the build up to a clash of wills that would leave one on the floor dead or dying with the other standing triumphant. Something that she had missed even on Mondas, not since she became leader of her tribe; leaders don't tend to go out hunting very often.

She hopped up onto the bonnet of a red car, crouching down low to avoid detection. As the Arekorn landed she leaped up and wrapped her arms around its left leg, pushing with her shoulder. It gave no indication of having even felt her, simply leaping onto the next car, taking her with him. As he landed she stabbed the golden blade into the back of its leg; right behind the knee.

The leg buckled and the Arekorn roared in pain. Unable to support his own weight the giant toppled over sideways like a falling tree, crashing into the barrier at the side of the road, sending sand flying in all directions. It teetered there for a second before toppling over the edge and falling to the road below.

Broxa lay panting on the ground, clutching her shoulder and coughing in between pants. She smiled as she heard a satisfying crash followed by a screech of brakes and an even louder crash. Her vision swam for a few moments, when it cleared she found the Doctor in her face calling her name.

"I got it," she grinned.

"You did," he agreed. "Never seen anything like that in my life, and I've had a very long life. What did you do?"

"Stabbed it behind the knees," she replied. "You said it was much like us apart from the skin being tougher so I guessed it would be similarly frail behind the knees."

"Good logic," he commended, "all the armour would be concentrated towards the front where attacks are most likely to come from leaving softer, frailer parts behind, the joints by the looks of things. Why did I never think of anything like this before? Perhaps the eyes are similarly frail, neck and elbows and under the armpits as well, should have asked Kabrok more about his defeat of the Arekorn. Suddenly these guys are looking beatable, well they were beatable before anyway, but now I have some clear strategy should I be attacked by one, like with the Sontarans' probic vent."

"I've done something to my shoulder," Broxa cut in.

He quickly shut up and tenderly massaged the area, she hissed as he did this. "You've dislocated it," he remarked. "Larry could I have a hand?"

Larry obediently dropped down and held her steady in a sitting position whilst the Doctor forced the shoulder back into its socket; Broxa was unable to suppress a scream this time.

"Surprised that's all you've picked up," Larry remarked.

"We're durable things us cannibals," Broxa winked, stretching her arm carefully.

"Is that it then?" Sally questioned. "Have we stopped it?"

The Doctor appeared beside her and also gazed down at the mess of sand and orange rubble amongst a motionless lorry. "He's not dead, if that's what you mean," he replied. "His outer shell has merely shattered. He'll be back on his feet soon."

"So that was for nothing," Larry exclaimed.

"He won't get up straight away, we still have plenty of time to get away and build up a good lead," he began jogging down the motorway.

"Hold on!" Sally called after him. "Shouldn't we be going this way?"

"He'll assume we are going to go that way," the Doctor responded, "this will probably confuse him. I'm thinking that hiding in that village might work out for us."

He continued jogging and slowly his companions followed him.


	11. Stone 5

Shest, still in the form of Morsprima, led the four Arekorns into the main room of the observatory standing just under the telescope. "The focal point of human ignorance," he said. "They've been monitoring your fleet for weeks you know, studying your flight patterns estimating your destination, causing speculation about apocalypses. But never once realising what you are."

"Why did you summon us, rock killer?" The lead Arekorn growled.

"Oh," Shest giggled, "I'm not with those pitiful creatures. I am a completely separate entity. The point was that I noticed what you were while they continued to believe you were mere asteroids."

"What are you then?"

"Does that really matter?"

"We would like to know who we are dealing with before we make any sort of deal," the lead Arekorn insisted.

He thought about this for a second. "I'm not human," he said, "is that good enough?"

"No."

Shest sighed and changed from form of the short fat astrophysicist to a tall fit male wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses. "I am a cybernetic organism," he replied in an Austrian accent. "Programmed for a," he changed into a man in a suit, also wearing sunglasses, "purpose," he finished in a completely new voice. "Purpose binds us, connects us." He changed again into a broad black man dressed in leather, also wearing sunglasses. "It is all around us, in everything we do." He changed back into the form of Morsprima. "Does that answer your question?"

The Arekorns glanced at one another before the leader spoke again. "Why did you summon us, shape changer?"

"Shape changer now?" Shest questioned. "Is that the best you can do? I don't just mimic shapes." He changed into a man with blue skin, blue hair and a long pointed tail. "I mimic every aspect of a person," he said in a German accent, "even zheir voice." He flickered and became Broxa, in the clothes she had worn when he had encountered her, the only difference being that her hair was replaced by snakes, all rearing up and hissing angrily. "I am more than just a shape changer."

"Are you trying to impress us?" The lead Arekorn questioned.

"Is it working?" Shest asked, returning to the form of Morsprima.

"Just tell us why you summoned us," the leader growled. "We grow impatient."

"An odd concept," Shest commented, "surely stone is used to waiting." The leader growled. "Never mind," Shest grinned manically. "If you are all sitting, correction standing, comfortably, then I'll begin."

* * *

"Any sign of him?" The Doctor asked as he drove into the village.

"None," Larry replied. "Do you think we lost him?"

"Possible," the Doctor shrugged, "we shouldn't drop our guard though, we do not know when it will be back."

The car suddenly shook violently, bouncing on unprepared suspension that quickly broke, the pillars holding the roof up buckled and the windows cracked. The Doctor lost control and crashed into the side of a parked car. As they recovered from the shock the roof above the Doctor and Broxa was peeled back to reveal the Arekorn leering down at them. His hide was a much lighter shade now and depositing sand far more freely, but otherwise he was just as intimidating.

"Rock killers," it snarled and reached an arm towards Broxa. She still held the Doctor's knife and stabbed it through the palm of the Arekorn's hand; which put up surprisingly little resistance. It recoiled, snarling with pain, dripping a brown liquid into her hair from the wound.

The Doctor took the opportunity to reverse the car and swerve to the right, causing the Arekorn to slip off. He gunned the accelerator to get away as quickly as possible, but he was too slow. The Arekorn latched onto the rear bumper, holding the fiat in place long enough to allow him to regain his feet and lift the rear wheels off the ground.

"Ok," the Doctor said, surprisingly calmly, "when it breaks through rear window-"

The Arekorn roared and smashed its head through the rear window, showering Sally and Larry with glass.

"Out, now!" The Doctor shouted. He dived out of the door, hoping that his companions had followed suit. "Now scatter," he ordered as he stood up. "He can't go for everyone at once!" He back pedalled, happy to spy Sally and Larry heading off down the road and Broxa jumping onto a car bonnet to make her way towards the pavement.

There was high pitched squeal of shearing metal and the Arekorn pulled itself free. It dropped the car, finishing off the already ruined suspension and turning his gaze towards where Broxa had ran to.

"Oi you crumbling, cowardly, lump of sand!" the Doctor shouted at him. "You too scared to take on the last of the Time Lords? You're just a jumped up mound of brown sugar, and about as lethal as it too, my granny has two spoons of you in her tea. I've conversed with extremophiles more evolved than you are. _I know a song that'll get on your nerves, get on your nerves, get on your nerves, I know a song that'll get on your nerves, and this is how it goes. I know a song that'll get on your_-" he stopped singing and cried out in frustration. "Come on! I'm insulting you in every way possible, chase me! Not her. She's just running, I'm an easy target!" He ducked as a car wing mirror was thrown at his head. "I know you can do bet-"

He was cut off as his breath was forced out of his body, and he flew backwards into the wall of a nearby shop; the car door that had been thrown pinning him there for a split second before bouncing back and clattering to the ground. He collapsed to his knees coughing. "Fair enough," he wheezed.

Tender hands reached under his arms and lifted him to his feet. "Easy now," a woman's voice said in his ear. "It's alright." She started to lead him down the road.

A few paces he pulled away from her and cocked his head to one side as he scrutinised her. "Do I know you?" He questioned.

"We've never met," the woman said. "But I suppose the family resemblance is quite telling. She has her father's eyes but the rest is-"

"You were on the motorway!" The Doctor exclaimed. "What are you doing here now? How did you get here, even?"

She scowled. "No, of course it isn't because of her. You bastard. You've forgotten already."

"You what?" The Doctor questioned, now thoroughly confused.

"You take one show her the universe and then dump her when you get bored," she continued. "This one will be no different."

The Doctor glanced back to see Broxa getting kicked in the chest by the Arekorn and flying backwards. "Look, I'm a little busy right now," he said hurriedly. "It's important you know that not everything happens in the right order, so I'm sorry for whatever it is that I'm going to do but-"

He cried out as a sudden sharp pain penetrated his shoulder. He returned his attention back to the woman as she returned an empty hypodermic syringe to her handbag.

"Only a sedative," she said coldly, taking hold of his shoulders so that she could guide him to the floor surreptitiously. "But that is the least of your problems."

Already his vision had gone blurry, it was very fast acting, too fast to be anything of Earth origin, he was immune to nearly all of them. This was a cocktail brewed up especially for a Time Lord. With the last ounce of his strength he sent a psychic probe into her mind, not caring if she detected it or not, he needed to find out what she was.

A human. That was almost a more frightening revelation, it meant that she wasn't alone. "Who put you up to this?" He slurred.

the last thing he heard before he slipped into unconsciousness was the woman's voice whispering in his ear. "The Carpenter will know what to do with you."

* * *

Broxa grunted as she crashed into another car. She quickly leaped aside as the Arekorn smashed a fist into a window behind her head, but she wasn't quick enough to avoid the swift kick that sent her flying down the road. He was so fast. Even faster than when he had been chasing them before. Probably due to shedding all the weight of his outer hide. She barely had enough time to roll to the side of the road before the Arekorn was upon her again.

"Look it was self defence," she shouted crawling in between two cars. "You were trying to kill my friends! I think I'm entitled to try and stop you in that situation." The Arekorn flipped one of the cars onto its back to allow him to get at her more easily. "There's no need to take it personally."

The Arekorn lifted her up by the scruff of her neck and snorted sand into her face. Golden knife still in hand she brought it up and stabbed as fast as lightning. Yet somehow the Arekorn moved quicker, catching her wrist as the blade was millimetres from his eye.

"You made it personal, rock killer," he rumbled and slowly began to squeeze her windpipe.

There was the sound like a bursting pipe followed by a roar and a white cloud exploded across the Arekorn's back. It screamed, a strange noise coming from its mouth, and flailed its arms wildly; dropping Broxa in the process. As she coughed and rubbed her throat she saw the Arekorn turn round clumsily and swing a drunken punch. The white cloud disappeared and Larry appeared darting left and right to avoid the Arekorn's clumsy attacks, a fire extinguisher under his arm, the nozzle pointed at the Arekorn, expelling a white cloud every few seconds at it; each one causing the Arekorn to bleat in pain.

Taking advantage of this distraction Broxa ran forwards and stabbed it in the back of the knee. It screamed and fell down on one knee, twisting to strike her again, but his attacks were suddenly slow and sluggish, and she easily jumped back to dodge it.

The Arekorn screamed and flailed as Larry's attack with the fire extinguisher continued, completely unable to mount its own attacks now. Its movement had slowed almost to a standstill and its hide had gone white.

There was a bang and the Arekorn became silent. Ever so slowly it fell over backwards with a crash, its brown, gritty blood slowly creating a halo around its head.

"I have to say that I am impressed," a male cockney accent rang across the street. "Not many people I know who can take down an Arekorn like that. With my help of course."

Broxa turned to the sound of the voice and spied a man with short brown hair, wearing a very distinctive red hussar's jacket and holding a smoking gun. "Who the xess are you?" She asked.

"Whoa, where did you learn to swear in Mondasian?" he asked silkily.

"Answer the question and I'll tell you," she stated in response.

He chuckled at this. "Captain John Hart," he said with a flourish. "Defender of the Earth and leader of Torchwood. Your turn, love."

She raised her eyebrows. "Love?"

"Well I don't know your name," Hart smirked, "I got to call you something."

"Mayor Broxanna of the Skullblood tribe," she said levelly.

"And where is that?"

"Mondas."

Captain Hart blinked in genuine surprise. "What really?" He exclaimed. "You're from that lifeless dump! No offence."

"It's ok," she shrugged. "It is a lifeless dump, Earth is much nicer."

"It's good of you to join us," Larry said gratefully.

"Couldn't let you lot take all the glory," Hart drawled. "I'm curious, how did you know to use a fire extinguisher on him?"

"The Doctor said they didn't like the cold," Larry explained. "I figured that fire extinguishers make things cold so it probably wouldn't like it that much."

"And which episode of Star Trek did you get it from?" Sally asked coyly, appearing at his side.

"It's not from Star Trek," he responded defensively.

"Battlestar Galactica then," she returned. "Firefly, that dodgy one with the bloke who travels through time and space in a phone box, must have been one of those."

"Why can't I have just come up with a clever idea on my own?" Larry questioned.

"There's a first time for everything I suppose," she smirked.

"Yeah, you tell him," Hart chuckled.

"Where _is_ the Doctor?" Broxa asked. They all stopped and glanced around in confusion, now that she mentioned it, it was very odd that the Doctor hadn't also reappeared with the demise of the Arekorn.

* * *

Shest, still in the form of Morsprima, grinned manically as he waited for the Arekorns to respond to his offer. They would say yes, how could they not. Strong and fast and incredibly durable, and best of all, they hated humans, the perfect warriors for his army.

The Ram, the leader, was being spoken to quietly. He perked up in surprise at what he heard and then returned his gaze to the Kamelion.

"We shall take leave of you now, Shape changer," the Ram rumbled.

"Hold on," Shest cried, "you haven't given me an answer yet."

"I cannot speak for the High Rams," the Ram responded.

"Well contact them and then tell me their response," he insisted.

"I shall tell them of your offer," the Ram turned away from him, "but they will not say yes."

Shest was silent for several seconds while he struggled to process what he had heard, never in a million years had it occurred to him that the Arekorns would say no. He flickered and changed between several forms before eventually settling back with Morsprima.

"What!" he roared.

"What were you expecting?" the Ram paused to answer. "Us to bend our knees and submit to you just like that. The Arekorns are governed by no one but ourselves, least of all the tool of a rock killer."

"I am no tool!" Shest exclaimed. "I am my own master."

"And it is not practical to launch an invasion on this world that is already claimed."

"You are scared of a few humans," Shest scoffed.

"I wasn't talking about the humans!" the Ram boomed. "Another race has its eye on this world, and only a fool would dare to interfere with them."

"You'll regret this," Shest warned them. "I can offer you greatness, you don't realise what you are turning down."

"Also it is customary for the host to look after his guests," the Ram added. "You allowed the clumsy humans to engage in hostilities."

"That's not _my_ fault."

"And now one of our warriors is dead," the Ram finished. Shest went silent and flickered between forms as he struggled to comprehend this information. "You neglected to inform us of how dangerous his prey was."

Shest finally came to a stop on the image of a ash blonde haired man dressed in black, the Master as he appeared not long after becoming the Prime Minister. "The Doctor," he snarled. "Always the Doctor."

The Ram turned and stomped towards the exit, his underlings following suit. "Good luck in your future endeavours, shape changer, you're going to need it," he rumbled without looking back.

Shest's face remained fixed in a snarl for several seconds. His inner workings swiftly processed the information he had, quickly highlighting the possible actions to take, calculating the pros and cons of each action before finally concluding that he needed to deal with the Doctor, now. "Where is he?"

* * *

They gathered around the car door that now lay across the pavement. "He was here," Broxa said. She crouched down in the rough position that the Doctor had been after being hit. "As was someone else, they went this way."

"That's some skill you've got there, Mayor," Hart complimented. "Can all Mondasians do it or is it just you?"

"Everyone I knew could," she shrugged, without looking around. She stood up and followed the scent down the road.

"Useful skill for someone to have," he continued.

"Could you shut up a minute," Broxa bit back, "I need to concentrate."

"You think you're all so clever don't you!" They all twisted to the voice of the new comer, a man dressed all in black with ash blonde hair who had appeared out of nowhere. He snarled as if looks could kill and wanted them all to drop dead on the spot. "I had them just where I wanted them, on the cusp of joining me, then you go and kill their warrior and ruin everything!"

"Hey, I know you!" Sally exclaimed. "You're Harold Saxon aren't you!"

"No I'm not Harold Fucking Saxon!" the man returned. "Perhaps this will give you more of a clue." He instantly changed into the form of Morsprima once more.

Broxa gasped. "You! You were the Kamelion!" she exclaimed. "You were right there and I didn't notice you."

"Twelve out of ten!" Shest snarled changing into the form of the Doctor. Except that he was dressed slightly differently, a thick coat as if to ward off the cold, similarly warm looking trousers and no hat, and his demeanour was completely different: he was slouching slightly, his hair and beard were unkempt and his face was twisted into a snarl. "Perhaps if you hadn't been worrying so much about having failed to spot me you might have actually noticed me."

"Who are you?" Hart demanded pointing his pistol at him.

"The Kamelion, weren't you listening!" he replied angrily. "But you can all call me Shest. I was the one who summoned the Arekorns here."

"You did?" Hart exclaimed. "To my planet!"

"Oh don't get all high and mighty with me," Shest giggled. "You don't give a damn what happens to this crumby little world, you're just trying to get into someone's knickers." He flickered and changed into a tall handsome man wearing a long blue world war two jacket; smirking flirtatiously.

"Stop that!" Hart growled, the hand holding the pistol shaking slightly.

"What's the matter John?" Shest asked innocently in an American accent. "Aren't you pleased to see your handsome Jack?"

Sally and Larry yelped as the gun in John's hand went off, and then again and again until the entire clip had been emptied at the Kamelion. None hit their intended target, Shest moved like a blur, bobbing and weaving to avoid each bullet. Hart pulled out a second pistol to continue his attack but it was wrenched out of his hand as something hard slammed into his chest. He rolled back and was quickly back on his feet the curved sword on his belt unsheathed and held aloft. He froze as he saw that Shest was pointing the pistol at his chest; he had taken the form of an old man dressed in an impressive, almost military styled, grey suit with a long flowing cape, and a snug red helmet that made only his eyes, nose and mouth visible.

"Men and their guns," he said with contempt, and crushed the pistol with his gloved hand as if it were made of paper. His cool grey eyes stared at John challengingly.

"What do you mean by ruin everything?" Broxa questioned.

Shest scowled and returned to Morsprima's form. "The Arekorns are leaving," he said bitterly. "All because you brought down the Billy over there. I knew the Doctor was going to cause me problems but I didn't realise quite how much of a problem he was going to be. So where is he?"

He looked at them each questionably causing them each to shift about uncomfortably in turn. "No matter," he said eventually. "I will find him eventually. This is actually an excellent opportunity to talk to you all without his interference. You needn't oppose me."

"You attack the Earth," Hart warned, "we will oppose you. What do you expect?"

"I really don't understand what you see in this pitiful world," Shest scoffed. "The symbol of everything corrupt and twisted in the universe. A horrible little back water world. You two don't have to answer, you don't know any better," he said to Larry and Sally before they could say anything. "You know it is true Hart, anywhere else you could thrive but here you are forced to pick up another man's mess."

"Say what you like," Hart shrugged. "That won't change anything. I'll still oppose you with every fibre of my being."

"Of course you will," Shest smirked. "Let's see whether that opinion changes should a true invasion occur. The Arekorns may have turned me down but there are millions of other potential candidates to treat with. Sontarans, Zygons, Nestenes, Draconians, Slitheen, Graske, Borg, Haggunenons. They'll all be knocking on your door soon enough and then we'll see exactly how deep your devotion to this world actually goes."

"What, even the fictional ones?" Hart asked sarcastically.

"You will abandon this world," Shest continued. "And I will be there to enjoy it when it happens."

He turned to Broxa now. "You underestimate us," she said defiantly. "The Doctor has stopped far scarier than you."

"You can try to pretend to be the faithful companion all you like," Shest scoffed, "but you cannot deny who you truly are. A cannibal you know," he said to the rest, "did either of them tell you?" he changed into a tall thin unshaven man. "You can dress up and play at being human, but you cannot deny that you are a monster inside."

"I don't eat people anymore," she retorted.

"Still," Shest shrugged returning to the form of Morsprima, "it's food for thought isn't it?" He regarded them all in turn. "Take this as a simple warning, you may all live today, but I'll be watching, I could anyone or anything." He changed into the form of Broxa only replacing her hair with hissing snakes. "and next time I may not be so lenient," he finished using Broxa's voice perfectly. There was a flash of temporal energy and he disappeared.

Hart sheathed his sword and rushed back into the middle of the road. "Where are you going!" Sally called after him as they sprinted to catch up.

"Need to get back to my team," he shouted over his shoulder, he bent down to pick up an old Harley Davidson that was lying on its side. "Have to brief them on the shit storm that's about to hit us and prepare for the worst. You need to find that Doctor of yours, and quickly."

"Will your team be able to handle this?" Sally questioned.

He chuckled slightly. "They've seen much worse," he winked at her. "Until next time, Sparrow." He gunned the engine and roared away.

"He's right," Larry turned back to Broxa. "Any idea where the Doctor went next?"

She stood in a gap in the parked cars by the side of the road. "His scent stops here," she said. "The car that was here must have taken him."

"Why would he get in some strangers car?" Sally questioned.

"I don't know," Broxa said uncertainly. "But I don't like it." As she spoke she noticed that Sally and Larry weren't making eye contact with her. "What?" she questioned.

They looked at one another and then by unspoken consent Larry spoke up. "It's what Shest said about you. You being a cannibal."

"Oh," she looked down to avoid they're gaze, hugging her chest protectively. "You don't know what It was like, no food, constant darkness, so cold you lose your fingers. What would you do, if the death of one person could mean the life of the rest of you?!" she pleaded.

"It's ok," Sally pulled her into a hug. "It's alright."

Broxa gently wrapped her arms around Sally in return. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "We should have told you sooner." She tried her best to ignore how inviting her scent was. It was a long time since she had tasted human, or Mondasian (there was little difference), flesh and a small part of her longed for the taste, to sink her teeth into the juicy flesh and...

"Well you're reformed aren't you, the Doctor wouldn't have taken you with him if you weren't," Larry said, unknowingly bringing her back to her senses.

"Yeah," she said hastily, pulling away from Sally. "We need to find him." She strolled purposefully towards the car, only remembering that it had been written off by the Arekorn's attack when she reached it. "Ok, first things first, you need a new car."

**End of Part Two**

* * *

**Author's note: I have been really busy with other projects, apologies for the lateness of this update.**

**The forms that Shest took were: Dr. Morsprima,  
The Terminator played by Arnold Schwarzenegger,  
Agent Smith and Morpheus from the Matrix played by Hugo Weaving and Laurence Fishburne respectively,  
Nightcrawler from X-men 2 played by Alan Cumming,  
Broxa,  
The Master as he appears in The End of Time played by John Simm,  
My original Thirteenth Doctor,  
Captain Jack Harkness played by John Barrowman,  
Magneto from the X-men trilogy played by Sir Ian McKellen,  
Hal from Being Human (Series 4 onwards) played by Damien Molony  
**

**Up next: The Doctor wakes up to discover himself in captivity, **_**again, **_**and finds himself accused of murdering a girl he doesn't even know. But the woman who has captured him isn't working alone, she is merely carrying out the **_**Vengeance of the Carpenter.**_


	12. Part Three: Vengeance of the Carpenter

**Part Three: Vengeance of the Carpenter**

The first thing the Doctor noted when he regained consciousness was that the ceiling needed to be repainted. It had been painted a nice cream colour once upon a time, but now it was faded and peeling; and with a slightly worrying brown stain in one corner. This was a home of someone who clearly didn't care about the state of their own living conditions, so therefore cared very little about their own life.

The next thing that he noticed was the hideous ingrain wallpaper, further evidence of a lazy owner. Unless of course he had been sent through a time warp that had emerged in the early nineties, but that was unlikely, he would have detected the artron energy if that was the case. Other details betrayed more demeaning details of the owner, the lumpy mattress he was lying on, the broken mirror, the cigarette stains in the carpet.

As he tried to sit up the Doctor finally noticed the thing that most people would have noticed first. Tightly wrapped around his wrists and ankles were leather belts that were in turn tied to the bed posts. A quick glance reassured him that he was at least still wearing his clothes, but that was of little consequence right now.

"Again!" He shouted at the ceiling. "I've already done this! You're supposed to vary my torments not make me suffer the same things over and over again! Surely it's Broxa's turn, she hasn't suffered any misfortunes since Thoruxa Medio. This is Doctor Who after all, I'm supposed to be the hero, not the damsel in distress! I hope you're enjoying this, I'm sure you had a right laugh when you told all the other gods about this. Let's gang up on the Doctor, he hasn't suffered quite enough for this week. You bastards!"

He took several deep breaths and was suddenly calm once more; sometimes you just need to let it all out. Reaching out with his mind he recognised the mind of the woman who had abducted him from the village, heading up the stairs. There was no doubt that she was human, her mind filled with great anguish over a past loss, and a smug satisfaction that justice was about to be dealt. The real question was who was guiding her? There was no way a simple human such as her could have masterminded this entire plot. When she entered he needed to interrogate her closely, make her slip up and reveal the true brains of the operation.

There was a click and the door swung open, heralding the entrance of the blonde woman who had abducted him from the village, scowling at him, venom almost visibly dripping from her eyes.

"Hello," the Doctor said cheerfully. "Do you want to play I spy? You can start." She froze mid-step and her expression shifted to one of dumbfounded confusion. "Alright, I'll start. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with... 'W'."

"Don't try and play games with me," she snarled, recovering from her confusion.

"None at all? What about scrabble? I'm very good at that, or maybe Monopoly, you must have been a very boring child if you won't play any games with anyone."

"You're trying to trick me," she smirked. "You're wasting your time."

"We're still looking for a 'W'," the Doctor said, as if he hadn't heard her. "Come on, this one is easy."

"Dodge the question all you like," she said archily, "Mr. Underwood has taught me all of your tricks and how to counter them."

"What question? You haven't asked me any questions," the Doctor pointed out.

"Ah, but you are trying to put me on the back foot early, by pretending to be stupid," she responded triumphantly. "And now you are trying to confuse me."

"Wow," the Doctor nodded. "Your husband really knows his stuff, Mrs. Underwood."

She frowned for a moment before answering. "What, no, Mr. Underwood isn't my husband, he's the Carpenter."

"Ah, and he's the man who has masterminded the whole plot to have me kidnapped, Mr. Underwood the Carpenter. An interesting pseudonym for an alien to take, I thought, but now I realise that he has another so he must be human like, or disguising himself as one." He grinned at her shocked expression. "Either he was a bad teacher or you are a bad student, everything you have said along with your manner has told be outright that you are being led by someone else. You mentioned someone called the Carpenter just before I passed out back at the village and have just revealed that this Carpenter also goes by the name of Underwood. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to decipher it all."

Her face made a combination of strange expressions before she snarled and slapped him across the face. "You are very lucky that you are still alive," she snarled. "I was in favour of killing you, slowly and painfully, but the Carpenter said that you should stay alive, for now at least. That doesn't mean I won't make you suffer a little though."

To illustrate the point she leaped on the bed and straddled the Doctor, resting her knee on his groin with just enough pressure to cause him discomfort.

"He's really got you under his thrall," the Doctor commented, "to hate me this much when you do not even know me."

"We haven't met," she spat. "But I know all about you and what you have done to all those girls."

"And what am I supposed to have done to all these girls?"

"Lured them into your home, then raped, and murdered them," she whispered in his ear.

"Even if that were true," he squeaked as she put more pressure onto his groin, "it still doesn't explain _your_ blind hatred."

"That's because your most recent victim was my daughter!" She shouted.

This shut him up, he stared dumbfounded for several seconds. "You're Lisa's mother?" He eventually exclaimed. As impossible as that was, Lisa's mother had disappeared when she was three - or so she had told him - that was the only explanation. Lisa was his previous companion and she _had_ died, leaving no trace for anyone on Earth to follow.

The woman screamed and slashed across his face with sharp nails, leaving four red lines on his cheek, then leaped up and turned her back on him going completely silent. "I'll take that as a no then," the Doctor muttered.

"Zara," she said eventually. "Her name was Zara."

"Now if she had been a Vicki you may have been on to something," he replied, "I have had several of those. But I have never known a Zara, met Zara Philips once, but I certainly never would have asked her to come travelling with me."

"Stop lying!" The mother shouted.

"I'm not, Zara Philips is an awful snob."

"You did take her!" she shouted leaping onto the bed once again. "I know you did! He showed it to me."

"Me meeting Zara Philips?" The Doctor frowned. "What has that got to do with anything?"

"Not Zara Philips!" She screamed in his ear. "My Zara! My little flower."

The last sentence was no more than a whisper, tears welling up in her eyes. She removed her hands from around his throat and sat on the side of the bed looking away from him.

"I know what it is like to lose someone you care about," the Doctor said sympathetically, giving up on trying to explain that he had never met her daughter, she was clearly too stricken by grief to listen to reason.

She chuckled bitterly. "Just like he said, trying to win me over by being sympathetic. Well it won't work, none of your tricks will."

"So you keep saying," the Doctor rolled his eyes. "So what is the point in me being here exactly if all that is going to happen is that you tell me how much you hate me without listening to what I have to say for myself."

"You are here to face justice," she asserted.

"Oh?" He glanced around at the room again. "Funny looking police cell."

"The police are ill-equipped to deal with the likes of you," she stated. "The Carpenter, however, can."

"Which brings us back to the puppet master," the Doctor grinned. "Underwood told you all this I suppose, that the only thing that can truly bring me to justice is him. Funny how it all turns out. Cowardly move, really. Why can't my nemesises, oh I hate that word! Nemesi? Nemesods? Arch-enemies! Why did I never think of that before! Why do they always rely on others to do their dirty work? Why don't the henchmen get suspicious? In fact where do all those henchmen come from in the first place? Is there a guild or something that they all get trained at, where their intellect is slowly sucked out and they learn how to fire a machine gun at someone and completely miss them with every bullet."

The mother stood up and glared at him. "I can only speculate as to why he didn't go after you himself," she said. "But he will be here for you, don't worry about that."

"I wasn't worried about that," the Doctor replied. "I'm actually looking forward to it. He'll actually have some proper thought out purpose in his actions unlike you."

"I have thought about meeting you for a long time," she growled. "The things I want to do to you would give you nightmares."

"Don't keep me in suspense," the Doctor insisted, "I haven't endured a good torture session for, well not very long actually, but not a human one for at least a century." He grinned up at her.

"Don't tempt me."

"I shouldn't need to!" The Doctor exclaimed. "If you hate me as much as you claim you should have started pulling my fingernails out by now, I would in your position. Or, better still, get a pair secateurs from the garden shed and cut off one of my fingers, that would probably shut me up. Never had to live with anything like that missing, it would be interesting to try."

"Secateurs?"

"Gardening instrument," the Doctor explained, "used to prune plants. Was a bit much to expect you to have a pair considering the state of this room. A large pair of scissors would work though."

A look of realisation came across the mother's face. "This is another one of your tricks isn't it."

"Actually I'm simply mocking you," The Doctor scorned. "Your friend has taught you too well for me to succeed with any of my tricks, as you call them, so I'll just mock your inability to follow through with your desires. You hate me so much you want to do unspeakable things, but you can't. You're not a bad person, Mrs..."

"Franklin," the mother answered.

"You're not a bad person, Mrs. Franklin, you're grieving which leads to rash decisions, but when it comes down to it you have no stomach. You are afraid of what lies on the other side when you cross that line, and rightfully so, it is a very dark place."

The mother turned away and strode towards the door. "I'm not going to kill you," she said, "the Carpenter wants to deal with you himself. But that doesn't mean I won't do anything with those scissors first."

"You will not lay a finger on me," the Doctor said forcefully. "In fact you are going to leave me alone until the Carpenter gets here, because seeing me is just too painful."

The door clicked shut. The Doctor breathed out heavily as he buried the back of his head into the pillow. It always sapped so much of his strength whenever he exerted his will on someone; not for the first time he bemoaned that he had never had the skill to do anything past planting suggestions in weak minds. But it gave him time to think, time to plan and time to recover. The Carpenter could well be another tool of the Kamelion, and he would need all his wits about him when the time for meeting finally arrived.

* * *

"That's him isn't it?" Toby froze the CCTV footage on a grainy image of the inside of a convenience store. Just about visible through the windows was a man leaning heavily on a woman.

Broxa leaned in over his shoulder to get a closer look at the man's jacket. "That's the Doctor," she nodded.

"Excellent!" He clapped his hands together. "Finally we're getting somewhere. If we could identify the car she is bundling him into, we can track her back to her home."

"Ahead of you," Lois called across from her monitor. "It's a BMW registered to a Graeme Turner."

"Is he a husband? What's their address?"

"He's not involved," she replied. "He reported it stolen at half past... five."

Toby swore loudly and stormed away from the desk. "Three hours!" He exclaimed. "Three hours and we've got nothing!"

"Can't you track her using the car?" Broxa questioned.

"You want to have a go at that Nancy Drew shit then be my guest!" He yelled. "I'm not Eric, I don't do this sort of thing! He's the bloody detective."

"Eric's gone, Toby," Lois shouted back. "He's not coming back!"

"That doesn't help us though does it?" Toby bit back. "I don't even know why we are doing it, this is without doubt the most stupid task John has made us do since..."

Before he could explain what the last really stupid task was he was punched in the groin and bent double wheezing. "Pull yourself together!" Broxa grabbed him by the ears and pulled his face close to hers. "This _is_ an important task, and the sooner you do it the sooner you can return to... Well whatever it is you do all day."

Upon release he straightened up and walked stiffly to his desk. "So," he said upon sitting down, "what do I do next?"

"I don't know," Lois admitted sheepishly.

"Eric would know what to do," he muttered.

"Come on you xessing smegheads!" Broxa exclaimed. "You need to find that car!"

"And how do we do that?" Eric challenged. He smirked when she could not answer. "Exactly."

"I'll patch into the actual investigation," Lois chimed in, "see if we can speed it up a bit."

"Go on then, Miss Marple," Toby drawled. "Don't let me stop you."

"She's too young to be Miss Marple," Broxa frowned.

Toby frowned as well at this, deciding that explaining would be more trouble than it was worth he returned to his screen, opening up a game of minesweeper. John had better return soon, he thought, this joke of his has gone too far this time.

* * *

"_Free, to be whatever I,  
Whatever I choose  
And I'll sing the Blues if I want._"

"Is that really the most appropriate song for this moment?"

The Doctor stopped singing and twisted his head towards the unexpected voice and was disappointed to discover his previous incarnation standing there. A short wrinkly old man, one of the few incarnations to have survived his entire lifespan, dying weeks before he would have died naturally. Despite his aged appearance he wore a green camouflage jacket over a stripy top, skinny jeans and red converses that a teenager might wear.

"Why is it always you?" The Doctor sighed.

"Charming," Previous sniffed, "I'm here to keep you company and you throw it back in my face."

"Not really," the Doctor corrected. "I wouldn't mind if you were less snide all the time."

"I'm not snide all the time," Previous replied defensively.

"No," the Doctor agreed. "The one time you weren't was following Xkitor's defeat, and even then-"

"I'm being honest," Previous cut in. "Sometimes the truth hurts, that's not my fault."

"Why can't one of the others do that?"

"They wouldn't do it right," Previous scoffed.

"I'm sure they can all be as equally critical as you."

"No, you wouldn't take any of them seriously even if they were," Previous stated. "Besides, for all you know I could actually be here to commend you on a job well done."

"Are you?" The Doctor challenged.

"Well obviously not," Previous scoffed.

"See."

"Look at you," Previous justified, "you've allowed yourself to get captured again!"

"Not my fault," the Doctor countered, "and the previous time was a tactical ploy."

"And you aren't doing anything to try to escape," Previous continued. "Look at you, you're just lying there singing Oasis songs."

"Be grateful I'm not singing One Direction," the Doctor retorted.

"Don't dodge the question!" Previous snapped. "You have all the tricks of Harry Houdini and David Blaine yet you aren't even attempting any of them. You need to escape man! Nothing good will come of you staying here."

"Oh I don't know," they twisted to the other side of the bed where the brown overcoat wearing, spikey haired, tenth Doctor had appeared, "there are many tactical advantages of staying put."

"Don't encourage him," Previous sighed.

"Well," Ten responded, exaggerating the word in a theatrical display of pondering, "why not? If he just runs, he'll be none the wiser as to what's going on here."

"He'll be too dead to do anything about it," Previous pointed out. "And when he dies, we all die, and for good this time."

"Should have called you the Pessimist," the Doctor muttered.

"I have to agree with our living compatriot there, your really are unnecessarily down all the time," a third Doctor appeared at the foot of the bed, this one unmistakably the sixth with his multicoloured coat and curly blonde hair.

"Ah, hello Smug Git," Ten waved.

"My nickname was Coats," Six growled.

"His nickname for you," Ten replied airily, "not mine. I can call you whatever I want, I doubt any of you call me Liberto."

"I say it's getting rather crowded in here," the Doctor chimed in. "Shouldn't we adjourn to that meeting room."

"And let you escape from your bonds?" Previous exclaimed. "Certainly not, that negates the whole point of my being here."

"You're telling him he should just run away and let this evil being rise up unchecked," Ten shook his head. "No, that's not very wise."

"And what is he going to do if he stays?" Previous challenged. "Sing Wonderwall to him?"

"Ok, if you insist," the Doctor grinned.

"That wasn't an invitation," Previous snapped.

"Well I'm sorry, Previous," the Doctor responded. "But Liberto has a point, I need to find out who the Carpenter is. I'm not sure what Coats is bringing to this conversation, perhaps you should just leave."

"I'm here to act as mediator," Six declared.

"Oh right," the Doctor replied sceptically. "Good job."

"No need to be sarcastic," Six huffed. "I would suggest you escape from your bonds then wait for this Carpenter to arrive so that you can find out who he is and then quickly escape, not that any of you would be interested in what I have to say."

"Actually that's not a bad idea," ten commended.

Previous snorted at this. "We _already_ know who he is."

They all turned to him in surprise. "Do we?" The Doctor exclaimed.

"Mr. Underwood?" Ten questioned.

"No, not his other pseudonym," Previous scoffed. "Who he really is."

"How come _we_ don't know?" Six questioned.

"Because I'm the only one who has thought this through properly," Previous said. "You lot are too busy gambling, writing poetry or reliving the 1981 ashes series."

"Has he reached the one where Botham single-handedly snatches victory from the jaws of defeat?" The Doctor asked.

"That's just my point! You're all too busy enjoying these trivial past times to notice impending disaster!"

"Alright then," the Doctor relented. "Who is this Carpenter then?"

"I don't know for certain," Previous admitted, "but if you think about it logically you should reach the same conclusion as I did."

"Oh not another of these cryptic messages," the Doctor moaned. "I shouldn't have to expect riddles from even my own imagination."

"Its not our fault you're useless at them," six responded. "We basically told you the last one and you still didn't get it."

"Just tell him, Twelve," Ten said. "It's painful watching his incompetence."

"My incontinence?"

"Incompetence, your uselessness," Previous corrected in irritation. "I'm thinking that this may involve another member of the trio."

"Don't be stupid," the Doctor scoffed. "Tom and Dick are both dead."

"That didn't stop Harry from returning," Previous pointed out.

"Still seems a bit of a stab in the dark."

"And Dick was a Carpenter," Previous added.

"Why not the War Chief?" The Doctor challenged. "Why does it just happen to be one of your neme... One of your arch-enemies."

"Nemeses is the plural of nemesis," Ten said helpfully.

"I knew that."

"He has a point," Six chimed in. "Bit egocentric really, I could say that it must be Mestor or Sil, but that wouldn't make it true."

"I have a feeling in my gut that vengeance will play a strong part," Previous justified, "and my gut feelings have never been wrong before. Stay there, then, see if I care, we'll see who's laughing at the end of the next chapter."

With pop he vanished leaving the remaining Doctor's staring at his now empty position. "What did he mean: the next chapter?" Six questioned.

"Copycat," the Doctor grumbled. "I broke the fourth wall first."

"Well seeing as that has been resolved I'll leave you to your singing," Ten grinned. "Good luck with Brother Lassar."

"I'm sure my successor will speak of how you mustn't underestimate the Kandyman," Six added as Ten also disappeared. "Good luck Thirteen, please don't sing anything by Justin Bieber."

As the last incarnation of the Doctor disappeared the current one stared up at the ceiling, the horrors that the trio had caused when he had faced them in his previous incarnation running through his head. "I don't feel like singing anymore," he whimpered.

* * *

**Author's note: Six must be pleased to discover that Twelve is even more unlikable than he is, apologies for the delay once again, so much work... anybody would think I was at uni or something.**

**The Doctor sings Whatever by Oasis.**


	13. Carpenter 2

In her best dress, generously applied makeup and straightened hair the mother strutted into the restaurant. After taking directions from the staff she was able to locate the table for two and the man who was already sat there. Mr Underwood, the Carpenter. Having only ever seen him in his scruffy overalls before she was quite surprised to see how well he scrubbed up, his wild mane of ginger hair had been waxed backwards over the top of his head, flicking up ever so slightly behind his neck. His beard, also ginger, was thick and framed his handsome features very well.

He stood up and beamed at her as she walked over. "Jennifer, you are looking wonderful this evening," he drawled.

"Thank you, Richard," she tittered, shyly looking away. "You don't look bad yourself."

He just smiled as he guided her to her seat before taking his place opposite her. "And how is our guest?"

"The Doctor?"

"No, the other guest you have at the moment," Underwood replied sarcastically. "Yes, the Doctor."

The abruptness of his reply took her aback for a moment, but he quickly smiled warmly and she relaxed once more. "He's... Confused," she answered. "Claims he has never met her. My daughter I mean."

"Well he would say that wouldn't he," Underwood sniffed. Looking down his nose at the menu he airily said: "I trust you didn't let him get to you in any way."

"No, of course not," she scoffed. "You taught me how to counter all his tricks remember."

"Though I note that you say he is confused," Underwood replied, "rather than in any sort of pain."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the whole point in you taking him in on your own without me was so that you could exact some revenge," he said looking at her intently. "A chance to pull out some fingernails, cut off some toes with the secateurs, wax his genitalia. Have you done any of those things?"

"Well."

Her hesitation was enough to confirm his suspicions. "We discussed this," he moaned. "You wanted this, I said that I could just take him away and you'd never have to worry again, but no, you wanted revenge. All of my plans have been put on hold because of you and your little vendetta and it turns out you haven't even followed through with it!"

By the end he was shouting, drawing the attention of the rest of the restaurant who all stared in shock. He froze as he realised the scene he was making, slowly bringing a shaking hand to the side of his head, massaging his temple with his fingers as he screwed up his face in pain.

"Migraine?" Mrs. Franklin asked sympathetically. She had seen him like this before, raving, sometimes getting angry or upset with an invisible man, each time he returned to his senses he would complain of a terrible migraine. Something the Doctor had done to him, something he had placed in his mind was driving him mad.

"It gets worse the nearer he gets," Underwood replied. "Taunting me with his presence."

"It's going to get worse," she observed.

"It will be fine once I get my hands on him," he said. "Then I can give it back to him and he can know my suffering."

"I'm sorry, you should have taken him straight away," she said sympathetically.

"You're entitled to your own revenge," Underwood scoffed.

"But I didn't take it."

"Let's not worry about that. He will get his comeuppance. Now, I think I'll have the soup, what do you think?"

In their animated discussion on the Doctor the mother had been completely distracted away from the menu in front of her. She frantically opened it up and began skimming through the starters as quickly as possible.

"No rush," Underwood said calmly, grinning in amusement. His hand started twitching and he slapped it with his other, snarling. "Stop that, not now!" He smiled again as if the previous outburst hadn't happened. "Take your time Jennifer."

* * *

Lois and Broxa were at one of the monitors scouring it carefully as if looking for miniscule cracks in the screen. Toby had long since retreated into a corner and was sat on the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees. He didn't even look up as John Hart swept into the room whistling a jolly tune.

"Good news then," Broxa jumped up excitably. "You've found something?"

"Mission accomplished I would say," he drawled, throwing a disc down on the desk.

"What's this?" Lois questioned.

"Child benefits disc," Hart explained. "They'll be chasing their tails for months."

"Oh really," she admonished, rolling her eyes.

"I'll give it back eventually," he shrugged. "Wait until you meet the woman I'm going to get the PM to talk to in the lead up to the election."

"What _have_ you got against the Prime Minister?" Lois asked.

"Oh, nothing," Hart shrugged. "You have to admit it's funny though."

"Hilarious, Captain," Toby said darkly. "Even funnier than your latest gag."

"Oh?" Hart turned to the sound of his voice. "Which one would that be? And what _are _you doing down there?"

"This search for that kidnapped doctor," Toby replied.

Hart turned to Lois questionably who just raised here eyebrows in response. To Broxa he said: "Johnson and your friend are in a car out front. We think we may have found him."

He did not react as she hugged him tightly and thanked him, his attention solely focused on Toby's location. As she slipped away he strode purposefully over to him, soft footed like a predator. "Alright," he said dangerously calmly. "What's wrong Toby."

"Nothing," Toby said darkly.

"Toby."

He turned his head away, refusing to meet the Captain's gaze, tears welling up in his eyes. "I can't do it," he mumbled.

"What?"

"I can't do it anymore," he shouted.

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific there mate," Hart replied.

"The job," Toby hissed. "It was fun at first, but now I go to bed every night with nightmares of the things we have faced, terrified that I will wake up and find one sitting at the end of the bed."

"Even the..." John stopped himself just in time. "No, continue."

"The whole world is counting on us to hold back the tide," Toby exclaimed. "And I don't believe I'm up to the task."

"Nonsense," John scoffed. "What about those Fugalites you took care of, or the Minoboars?"

"I killed them yes," Toby snarled. "But I didn't find them, I haven't been tracking down any of those escaped prisoners as well as Eric or even Lois, but now I'm going to have to do it more often and I'm not going to be able too."

"You will," John said sternly. "There's no going back to your old life, remember. Eric's gone, there is nothing anyone can do about that, and you have to shoulder some of his old responsibilities. It's tough, I know, but you have to do it."

"It's not fair," Toby croaked.

John sighed and reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask. He placed it into Toby's palm and made his way back to Lois.

"I'm not how much longer I'll be able to stand that bitchy whiner," she said through gritted teeth.

"Fret not," he replied. "If he does what I expect him to do, then we won't have to." She glanced up at him questionably. "Let's just say," he grinned, "that the child benefits disc wasn't the only thing I discovered."

"This isn't booze!" Toby exclaimed in shock and disgust. "How am I supposed to drown my sorrows with thi..."

* * *

Johnson was a very stern woman, dressed all in black with straight black hair, completely silent as she drove the car to its destination. Broxa was sat behind her with Larry to her left, she had the Doctor's hat on her lap, Sally and Larry had found it at a bus stop along with a piece of paper with an address written on it.

"Who else has touched it?" She asked after, frowning at it for several minutes.

"What do you mean?" Larry questioned.

"I can smell the Doctor and you and Sally and me and her and the woman who took him and someone else that I've never smelt before. Who is it?"

"You can really smell all that?" Larry said in wonder.

"I've been living with you for..." She chewed her lip as she tried to work out the answer. "A very long time," she eventually settled for, "you must have known that I could do that."

"No, you haven't done anything like this before," he shook his head. "It's mostly just been DVDs and video games."

"And those books," Broxa pointed out.

"Yes, Spot the Dog too," he agreed, "but you don't show off any of your amazing skills doing any of those things do you."

"No," she agreed solemnly, looking out of the window. "Where are we?" She asked, noticing that they had stopped.

"Sally's here," he said, carefully avoiding her gaze.

"What's she doing here?" Broxa frowned in incomprehension.

"You know she went to the doctor's recently."

"She said that she was fine."

"She was putting on a brave face," Larry explained. "Things are not fine at all. She's here to have a CT scan."

"A what now?"

"There is a high chance that she has an illness," he trailed, his voice quivering. "A lot of people don't survive."

"She's going to die!" Broxa exclaimed. He did not reply. "But this world is perfect."

"Her chances of survival are a lot better than they would be a few years ago, but she will still need all my support," he said, voice quivering all the while. "That is why I cannot come with you. You must find the Doctor and then you two must save the world, we cannot be a part of this anymore."

Broxa was speechless as the car pulled up at the entrance to the hospital. Larry glanced back at her awkwardly as he put his hand on the door handle. "I have to go now," he said. "I... It will be very strange you not being around after this. We'll miss you."

Broxa leaned across and hugged his arm, he returned the favour by wrapping his other arm around her back. "So long, and thanks for all the fish," she whispered in his ear.

This caused a little chuckle as he pulled away. He opened the door and stepped out taking one last look back and saying: "Goodbye Broxa," before closing the door and turning to enter the hospital.

"Just tell me when you want to set off," Johnson said, making Broxa jump out of her skin. "There's no rush."

"I'm fine," Broxa insisted, not noticing as a single tear slid down her cheek. "We can go."

* * *

Creating a thump with every other step the woman limped across the room towards the man stood looking out of the window, the bright sunlight making him appear as nothing more than a shadow. The only significant feature that could be made out was that his left arm was cut off at the elbow.

"They've found it," she said.

"You had better get there yourself then," he replied.

"I thought they had to go-"

"Yes, and you need to be there as well," he nodded, waving his good arm dismissively.

"You could have told me earlier," she said in irritation.

"But then you would have arrived too early," he said. "Timing is the key here, if anything deviates from the proper timing by even a second then an exponential time wave will be sent forwards. Everything will change, and we will lose the one advantage that will allow us to win."

"So if I'm a few seconds late I ruin everything?" She questioned sceptically. "How exactly am I supposed to arrive on time."

"If you leave now then you will arrive at exactly the right time to perform your purpose."

"What if there's traffic?"

"All factors will play out to ensure that you arrive when you are supposed to. The only thing that should change anything is if I allow you the use of time travel and end up arriving several minutes earlier than this conversation."

She threw up her arms in exasperation. "Why are you being so pedantic, you've never cared this much about following the time stream so accurately before."

"We are in a unique situation," the one armed man replied. "You have to trust me. Everything will become clear."

"If I had a credit for every time you've said that and then not done so," she muttered as she turned and hobbled out.

* * *

Broxa glanced out of the window as they pulled up outside a cheap set of terraced houses. "Is that where he is?" She questioned.

"Other side," Johnson corrected. "I'm making us not look so suspicious."

Broxa twisted round and crawled to the other side to look out at the true target. There was very little difference compared to the near side. "Which one?"

"Number seven," Johnson replied.

Broxa grinned elfishly. "Ah, the cannibal one," she said, "of course it would be."

"The cannibal one?" Johnson questioned.

"Yeah," Broxa said as if it were obvious, "that's why six is afraid of it."

"Oh I see," Johnson said icily as the light bulb clicked on in her mind. "Well go on then."

The dark-haired girl turned to the former contract killer with a frown. "Isn't it normal to have a plan before charging into danger."

"Well it looks like nobody is home at the moment," Johnson replied. "Proceed with a little caution obviously, I'm not saying to just charge in, I'm just saying that you can go now."

"Just me?" Broxa noticed narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "You're not coming with me."

"I'm told that you can handle yourself," Johnson replied. "I have other things to worry about, more important than sorting out a simple kidnapping."

"This is very important," Broxa growled. "He's the Doctor."

"Meanwhile a shape changing android has declared his intentions to send every alien fleet right at our doorstep," Johnson countered. "We need all hands to prepare for that oncoming storm, not to mention all those psychos still on the loose. If I had time to help I would, but as it is-"

"Fine then," Broxa shouted. "I didn't need your help anyway."

She threw open the door and jumped out, picking up the Doctor's hat as she went, and slamming it shut behind her. "Fracker," she muttered under her breath as she stormed across the road to the house. She paused halfway and carefully retraced her steps. "Which one is seven?" She asked as she opened the door again.

"The middle one," Johnson replied.

"Thank you," she slammed the door again and resumed her storming off across the road.

* * *

"_It's strange but it's true,  
I can't get over the way you love me like you do,  
But I have to be sure  
When I walk out that door,  
Oh how I want to be free, baby,  
Oh how I want to be free,  
Oh how I want to break free._"

"Doctor!"

The Doctor turned his head to the sound of the rattling door. "Yes you would have thought the belts strapping me to the bed would have been enough," he said. "But no, apparently she had to lock the door as well."

"It's ok, there's a key," Broxa called back.

The Doctor tutted upon hearing this. "She could have at least attempted to be competent. Did she leave a key under the mat as well? It's hard to believe that any idiot would really do something as stupid as that in reality, convenient for people like us but still bloody stupid. It's a good job you aren't a burglar. This must be the reason Burglar Bill was so successful, stupid people leaving spares where anyone could get it rather than with a neighbour or an extended family member. While we're on the subject I have very little sympathy for anyone who repeatedly walks out of their home and doesn't take their key with them, that should be a part of the routine of leaving the house, along with actually locking it."

"Who did this?" Broxa asked as she started to undo one of the belts around his wrists. The Doctor noted that she was wearing his hat but made no comment.

"Some woman who believes I killed her daughter," he replied. "Not sure about the true brains of the scheme, but I'll find out. That's probably them just now."

* * *

Underwood stepped out of the car and stared up at the window to the room he knew that the Doctor was in. "He's not alone," he said.

"What?" Mrs. Franklin appeared at his side and followed his gaze.

"Somebody is helping him to escape," he replied. "You didn't leave a key under the mat did you?"

"No," she shook her head vehemently. The scrutiny of his gaze made her shift about uncomfortably. "In the hanging basket actually," she mumbled.

"It makes no difference," Underwood shrugged. "I'm here now, it's time for the games to begin."

* * *

"No point in running now," the Doctor said as he pulled the last of the belts off himself. "They're here now, now we must-"

He suddenly recoiled and clutched at his head, a great searing pain boring its way into his skull.

"Doctor!" Broxa cried and went to his side. "What's happening?"

The Doctor didn't answer, the pain was so great he could concentrate on nothing else. His own psychic defences were simply brushed aside as if they were no more than cobwebs across the mouth of the cave by the great power of this psychic onslaught. He gripped the side of the bed and cried out in anguish and then suddenly the pain went away.

In his mind's eye an image slowly formed itself, a malevolent black fog that slowly swirled until it had morphed into the form of a young boy. So innocent looking with his pale blue eyes, yet a great aura of menace surrounded him. With a completely blank look the boy raised up a drum stick and began to beat out a rhythm on the drum that had appeared in front of him.

Thud, thud, thud, thud... Thud, thud, thud, thud... Thud, thud, thud, thud... Thud, thud, thud, thud... A continuous four beat rhythm, echoing his own double heartbeat, each beat like a hammer blow to his skull, but the pain from that was nothing compared to the dread in his heart as he realised the implications.

"It's him," he breathed. "Stars, it's really him."

"Who?" Broxa questioned urgently. "What's happening."

"The Master," the Doctor replied through gritted teeth. "And the real one, not a dodgy copycat."

"You like to sing, Doctor," a powerful male voice called up from outside. "So sing this with me!"

On cue the drumming changed beat, taking on a completely different rhythm, he couldn't help but smile as he recognised it. "Very clever Master," he muttered. "Very clever."

"_There's a drumming noise inside my head  
That starts when you're around,  
I swear that you could hear it  
It makes such an all mighty sound,"_

"I can't hear you Doctor!" the Master shouted up before continuing with the second verse.

"_There's a drumming noise inside my head  
That throws me to the ground  
I swear that you should hear it  
It makes such an all mighty sound_

_Louder than sirens._"  
_Louder than bells,  
Sweeter than heaven,  
And hotter than hell._"

He kicked open the door that had been left swinging open by Broxa and continued singing as he entered.

_"I ran to a tower, where the church bells chime,  
I hoped that they would clear my mind,  
They left a ringing, in my ear,  
But that drum's still beating , loud and clear._"

He paused at the foot of the stairs and called up the next verse, grinning as the Doctor could resist no longer and started joining in by echoing each line.

"_Louder than sirens,_  
_Louder than bells,_  
_Sweeter than heaven,_  
_And hotter than hell_

_Louder than sirens_  
_Louder than bells_  
_Sweeter than heaven_  
_And hotter than hell_

_Louder than sirens_  
_Louder than bells_  
_Sweeter than heaven_  
_And hotter than hell._"

The Master started up the stairs hitting the banister in time with the drum beat that only he and the Doctor could here.

"_As I move my feet towards your body_  
_I can hear this beat it fills my head up_  
_And gets louder and louder_  
_It fills my head up and gets louder and louder._"

He paused and continued, singing softly, almost mournfully as if remembering a great tragedy.

"_I run to the river and dive straight in  
I pray that the water will drown out the din  
But as the water fills my mouth  
It couldn't wash the echoes out  
But as the water fills my mouth  
It couldn't wash the echoes out_"_  
_

Suddenly he began shouting harshly, gesturing at the sky accusingly.

"_I swallow the sound and it swallows me whole  
Till there's nothing left inside my soul  
As empty as that beating drum  
But the sound has just begun_."

As Broxa and the Doctor heard him singing normally and continue up the stairs again she looked around frantically for anything that could be used as a weapon. Remembering about the Doctor's knife she pulled it out of her pocket and started to flick the blade open, but the Doctor shook his head.

"_As I move my feet towards your body  
I can hear this beat it fills my head up  
And gets louder and louder  
It fills my head up and gets louder and louder._"

The Doctor now sang along word for word.

"_There's a drumming noise inside my head_  
_That starts when you're around_  
_I swear that you could hear it_  
_It makes such an all mighty sound_

_There's a drumming noise inside my head_  
_That starts when you're around_  
_I swear that you could hear it_  
_It makes such an all mighty sound,_

_Louder than sirens_  
_Louder than bells_  
_Sweeter than heaven_  
_And hotter than hell_

_Louder than sirens_  
_Louder than bells_  
_Sweeter than heaven_  
_And hotter than hell._

_As I move my feet towards your body_  
_I can hear this beat it fills my head up_  
_And gets louder and louder_  
_It fills my head up and gets louder and louder._"

As the song ended the Master entered the room and posed in the doorway, leering manically as the Doctor stood up as straight as possible, the drum beat not disappearing but simply returning to its previous four beat rhythm, and regarding him coolly. The Doctor and the Master, Time Lords from Gallifrey, two sides of the same coin, flanked by their female companions: the cannibal and the wronged mother. The ultimate showdown was about to commence, and god help anything that got in their way.

* * *

**Author's note: There we have it: the long awaited return of the Master. I may have teased you with red herrings and imposters but there is no trick this time, he is the real Master; not an incarnation that we have seen before merely my own interpretation to mirror my Doctor.**

**For those not familiar with some of the scandals that the British government has faced, a few years ago a disc containing all information on child benefits was lost, one of the may factors that led to disillusionment with the government. Also in the build up to the most recent general election Gordon Brown, the then Prime Minister, ended up speaking to a woman, who had very strong views shall we say, resulting in him immediately afterwards calling her bigoted, forgetting that he was still wearing the mic he had been wearing for the interview, and that everyone could still hear him. **

**The Doctor sings I want to Break Free by Queen and the Master sings (with backing vocals by the Doctor) the Drumming Song by Florence + the Machine.**


	14. Carpenter 3: Darkheart

**Author's note: I cannot apologise enough for the lateness of this update, you can blame my uni for the massive workload I subjected to. Hope this is worth the wait.  
**

* * *

The Darkheart

_[Flashback]_

The great space station trembled as its entire structure buckled inwards ever so slowly. Pipes pumping oil from the bowels of the station burst open, their contents igniting and creating violent explosions; not that anyone could see or hear them. Before the sound of the explosion, or the flash of the fire could reach any of the crew frantically trying to bring things under control it was sucked into the rapidly growing singularity right in the heart of the ship; only those being caught up in them were truly aware of their occurrence.

Sprinting along one of the walkways that surrounded the black hole, one of the few to be out of range of its inescapable pull (for now at least), were a man and a woman, dressed inappropriately for the setting. The man had long blonde hair that was singed and matted with blood, dressed in a once smart dinner suit; now dirty and torn. The woman had short brown hair and was dressed in a skirt suit, similarly battered. They skidded to a halt as they reached what should have been stairs up to the next level, only for them to collapse as they reached them.

"Fuck!" The woman swore.

"No more of that," the man shouted. "You're not a human so stop pretending to be one."

"Some of their words are so good though, Theta," she replied. "Perfectly sums up the situation."

"You do know of course that the word you use actually means-"

"I can use it however I fucking like," she retorted.

Theta Sigma grimaced and spied a look down at the gaping maw of the black hole. "I really can't do with any reminders of humans right now, Dominica," he said. "Stupid apes."

"They may be stupid," Dominica replied, "but they get to enjoy much fuller lives than we ever did back on Gallifrey."

He grunted in agreement, peering upwards in search of an escape route, their own race were one of the cleverest races in the universe, ancient and wise with a vast array of traditions and ceremonies. Yet with all these traditions put in place there was little room for any one person to really express themselves, everyone was expected to toe the line, and woe betide anyone who didn't. Meanwhile the humans that he and Dominica had encountered had been free to be whoever they wanted to truly be, with very few constraints. He could see why she had become so fascinated with them.

"Only they could think that trying to harness the power of a black hole was a good idea," he said. Before she could reply he had leaped up and grabbed hold of the level above. He hung there for several seconds before straining with his upper body to pull himself up. Before he could reach one of the bars of the railing he slumped down again, kicking his legs futilely.

"You could help," he called down to his friend who was giggling like a child. She quickly composed herself and went over to give him a leg up.

With their combined strength Theta was soon able to reach high enough on the railing to pull himself over on his own. He turned back and reached down towards her, offering his hand.

Before she could reach up the floor she was stood on creaked heavily, then started to buckle. The black hole had caught up.

"Dominica!" Theta shouted in horror.

The sudden tremour had made her lose her footing, she struggled to her feet and the whole platform buckled and slowly started to tilt towards the gaping maw of the black hole, slowly tipping her back towards the edge. In the nick of time she had recovered enough to make a leap of faith. The platform was wrenched away from its supports and sucked into the abyss. Dominica hung in the air for a moment, catching hold of Theta's hand just before gravity resumed its hold on her.

"Whoa," Dominica gasped. "That was close." He simply stared back, horror at what he had almost witnessed still etched on his face. "Good thing I'm a feather weight, eh?"

Using both hands Theta pulled with all his might until she was able to grab hold of the railing herself; even at this point he kept hold of one of her hands.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "You can let go."

"I don't know what I would have done had I lost you," he said breathlessly.

"You would have had to learn how to fly the Time Capsule all on your own," she replied cheekily, climbing higher.

"I'm serious," he insisted. "I can't lose you Dom, I love you."

She froze in shock, Theta also froze surprised by his own words. He looked away out of embarrassment.

"What?" She asked softly.

"I love you," he repeated, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "I love you. I'm sorry I've been so grumpy, and I should never have given Oslo away. Things will be different now. We'll return to Earth and find him and then we can settle down, stop all this running, and be a family."

Dominica remained motionless a grin slowly spreading across her face. "Theta I-" a sound like air being blown across the top of a bottle, only sharper and more sudden, burst across the scene. Dominica's grin turned into a gasp of shock as a white flash exploded across her side. The life drained out of her eyes almost instantly and her grip on the railing disappeared along with it.

Theta lunged forwards frantically, succeeding in brushing the edge of her hands but otherwise was completely helpless to watch as the body of his lover, so full of life seconds earlier, slowly floated away from him and into the widening mouth of the black hole. He made not a sound, he was aware of nothing but the slow, and getting slower, beating of his hearts. Suddenly he couldn't breath, great gasping breaths escaped from mouth, each failing to soothe the burning he was feeling in his chest. Weakly he leant against the railing, his eyes still trained unblinking on the falling corpse. His vision blurred and his eyes began to sting, he knew he should turn to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to, it was just so painful.

Then things got worse as he became aware of a tapping on the railing. A spookily familiar tapping, one that he had heard every day during his time at the academy; a continuous four beat rhythm. Ever so slowly he twisted his head towards the sound, dread filling his heart. Stood a few metres down the walkway was a man, roughly his age, with short black hair; one hand casually tapping the rhythm, the other training a staser on Theta.

"Koschei?" Theta gasped.

"Hello Theta," Koschei replied coldly.

Theta slowly got to his feet his face a mixture of confusion and despair, his eyes unblinkingly fixed on his childhood friend. Koschei, heir of house Oakdown, a brother in all but blood, supporter of many a wacky scheme, happy to defend Theta even when doing so would put himself into as much trouble; and yet he was the one holding the smoking staser that had just killed his lover.

"I don't-" Theta began but was quickly cut off by Koschei.

"You've caused a lot of trouble back on Gallifrey."

"I know that," Theta replied.

"They are very cross with you," the man dressed all in black said loudly, making it very clear he did not want anymore interruptions. "A couple of students, including the heir of house Lungbarrow no less, hijacking an old Time Capsule."

"It was hardly hijack."

"You know what you problem always was, Theta," Koschei shouted, the staser shaking violently in his hand. "You never knew when to shut up. You have no idea the trouble you have caused."

"I do actually," Theta said gravely. One of the first things he and Dominica had done was set up a link to Gallifrey so that they would be able to keep track of goings on back home; more out of boredom than an actual interest. They had quickly turned it off after discovering the scandal it had caused, and the shame he had burdened on his mother.

"Then you'll be aware of all the young ones who have chosen to follow your example," Koschei challenged. "Magnus, Mortimus..."

"Mortimus?!" Theta exclaimed. "Really?"

"Their both flying around out there right now," Koschei nodded, "thanks to you."

"Well good for them!" Theta bit back, anger now replacing his confusion. "They're wasted on Gallifrey! They would have just become stagnant, fat old men, bored witless by the lack of challenge. And since when did you care, what are you even doing here?"

"You're saying that Magnus running about the universe a_lone_ is a good thing?" Koschei challenged. Theta froze upon hearing this. "Mortimus isn't with him, they left separately. Rallon and Millennia however did go together, not that it did them any good."

"What?"

"Dead," Koschei said coldly, "along with many others who were unprepared for what lay beyond the transduction barrier."

"And you're blaming me for this!" Theta exclaimed, the already pent up emotions blocking any reaction to news of his friends' deaths, he would have time to mourn them later. "If I remember rightly, you wanted to leave Gallifrey as much as me, if not more so."

"Then why did you abandon me!" Koschei roared. "We were like brothers, you and I, we were going to see the universe together. One look into those pretty brown eyes and all that was forgotten."

Theta stared down into the heart of the black hole, anguish filling his hearts again, a single tear rolled down his cheek. "So what is this?" He croaked. "Revenge?"

"Exactly!" Koschei spat. "It was my darkest hour, pressured by my father, scandals rocking our household, I needed my friend, but you weren't there. Where were you Theta Sigma?"

"Your father was furious with me, I thought it would be best if you were left alone," Theta justified. "I would just have been a distraction."

"He turned his fury on me!" Koschei roared. "I was bearing the brunt for _your_ mistake and you were busy having fun with your little whore."

Theta was speechless. He had known that Koschei had been troubled when he had left, but he had genuinely believed that his presence would only make it worse, especially considering how much he had contributed to the problem. "I am so sorry, I had no idea." He took a step towards his black clad friend only to jump back as Koschei fired the staser again hitting the floor between his feet.

"Not another step," he snarled. His other hand continued to tap the four beat rhythm, only now he did it far faster and with a greater force behind each tap.

Theta was familiar with this tapping, Koschei had often done it with the end of a pencil on a desk, he had attributed it to a subconscious reaction to deep thought processes; much like how he occasionally hummed when deep in concentration. But in seeing it now, he realised that it was so much more than that. In another circumstance he may have been sympathetic and offer to help now, but an image of Dominica suddenly stiffening under the staser bolt sent brought the anger rushing back.

"So our friendship meant nothing did it?" He challenged. "Thought Vansell had the right idea?"

"Do not compare me to that snake," Koschei growled. "You are the one who has proven how little you cared for our friendship."

"I didn't murder anybody," Theta snarled.

"I'll have you know, I have every political sanction to allow me to do that," Koschei leered evily.

"Gallifrey sent you?" Theta breathed.

"They want to prosecute you themselves in a public trial, deter any young Time Lords thinking of following your example," he paused to grin sadistically. "But I don't think they will be too disappointed should you be killed instead."

"I think you underestimate them," Theta cautioned him.

"Whether you are saying that to save your own skin or because you genuinely believe it does not matter," Koschei shrugged and turned towards the balcony. "They will not reprimand me, they will be too busy falling at my feet."

With Koschei distracted Theta dared to take a few steps forwards, he managed to get within two metres before the pistol was raised nonchalantly to halt him. "I have to admire the humans," he said casually, "only they would be stupid enough to think that they can harness the power of a black hole."

Theta chanced another step forwards and found that despite his threatening with the staser Koschei's attention was solely fixed on the black hole. Catching the manic glint in his eye, coupled with the ever present tapping of his nail on the barrier, Theta realised his friend's intentions; he had gone completely mad. Looking at Koschei now he wondered how he had missed it, he must have been going mad for years. His head twisted towards Theta now grinning manically.

"Who would have thought that their short-sightedness would have gifted me the perfect tool to overthrow the Time Lords," he drawled. "With the Darkheart in my control nothing shall stop me. I shall be, the Master of the Universe!" He paused to mull over what he had just said. "The Master," he repeated huskily. "Ooh, I do like that."

"You are sounding like Magnus," Theta noted.

Koschei's attention flipped back to Theta intently. "And what is wrong with that?" He demanded. "I tried following your footsteps, being nice to people and helping others, but that was never satisfying, never got me anywhere. Perhaps the Chief had it all right all along."

Before he could say anything the platform they were stood on jerked violently knocking them both off balance. Theta recovered first, tackling Koschei in the chest. He tried to swing the staser round on him but Theta quickly blocked with his wrist, following through with a punch in the jaw. As Koschei fell backwards from the force of the blow he made sure to kick the weapon from his grip before jumping over him.

The Time Capsule was just at the end of the walkway, he needed to reach it before the pull of the Darkheart completely destroyed the walkway he and Koschei were on. Self preservation was not the first thing on Koschei's mind, however. He looped his arms around Theta's leg causing him to trip, he then jumped up and turned him onto his back, finally proceeding to rain punches down on his former friend.

The ferocity of the blows held Theta at bay for a while, but they were also manic, blinded by hatred and he soon spotted a gap. A swift uppercut to the jaw sent Koschei recoiling backwards and allowed him to regain his footing. Koschei charged with a roar, but Theta was able repel him again; this time a kick in the gut knocked the dark haired man onto the railing.

At that moment the walkway jerked again and tilted dangerously towards the centre. Koschei's eyes widened as he flapped his arms but was unable to stop himself from toppling over the side, catching hold of the railing just in time to save himself. Theta himself stumbled under the sudden tilt but was able to recover to quickly scramble onto a more stable platform.

"Theta!"

He paused and glanced back at his friend, only now seeing the peril he was in. The metal platform was twisted out of recognition, hanging from the main structure by a couple of bolts that could fail at any moment. Koschei was hanging on for dear life, eyes wide and legs flailing wildly. Their eyes met and Theta suddenly recognised his old friend, the terrified child that he had, once upon a time, stumbled across crying in a hidden corner of one of the many gardens on Gallifrey. But for some reason he didn't care.

"I'm sorry!" Koschei pleaded. "It's the drums! I didn't plan on killing her, I swear! I just saw you two together and... it just happens! It's like an animal, I have to feed it."

"Drums?" Theta mused. "You mean that tapping?"

"Only in the lightest moments, when they've been fed. More like a thumping, like a hammer," his gaze travelled across the twisted walkway as it creaked loudly. "Hurry! It won't last much longer!"

For a moment the Doctor considered his options. Koschei did seem truly repentant, he could reach out for him, take him into the capsule, and help him to recover, help him to beat those drums that he spoke of; become his doctor. He almost took a step forwards when the image of Dominica slowly floating away from him flew into his mind. And in that instant his hearts hardened.

"What are you waiting for!" Koschei shouted. "I'm your friend, we've always stood by each other!"

"That's the problem," Theta said coldly. "Koschei of house Oakdown was my friend. But you... whoever you are, are not Koschei of house Oakdown. You are not my friend."

He barely registered the look of horror on Koschei's face as he turned on his heels and strode along the shuddering platform towards the time capsule at the end.

"No, Theta please, I wasn't thinking! We all make mistakes," Koschei pleaded. "I forgive you, Theta, please forgive me. I don't want to die Theta."

"Theta Sigma is dead too," Theta threw back without even looking back. That had been his nickname, what he had called himself as a student, alluding to the lack of care he took with his studies. But he was no longer a student, he was a man grown with the whole universe in front of him. It was time to grow up.

With a sound of shearing metal the platform finally fell away, Koschei screaming uncontrollably as he was pulled with it. Even now Theta did not look back, unrelentingly striding to the time capsule. He was inches from the door when a psychic probe pierced his mind, making him freeze in place. It was a single word in high Gallifreyan, his true name. He whirled round to catch a glimpse of Koschei clawing at the air as he plummeted towards black hole, and in that moment the heir house Lungbarrow truly realised what he had just done, and it chilled him to his core.

* * *

That should have been the end of Koschei Oakdown, not even a Time Lord can survive a black hole; but the Time Lords were not willing to allow one of their most valuable asset to disappear just like that. As soon as they learnt what had befallen on the Darkheart station they sent a retrieval team, rescuing Koschei from the singularity just seconds before his final regeneration could also be destroyed.

As they nursed him back to health on Shada, it was quickly realised that Koschei had changed considerably; even when considering the numerous regenerations he had undergone in order to survive. Insanity had completely taken over the young Time Lord, who now insisted on calling himself the Master, and the temporary imprisonment had to be extended indefinitely. The Psychologist and his team still visited in the vain hope that they could restore the once brilliant mind, their mistake was that they forgot just how clever he was and mistook his insanity for brain damage.

The Master was every bit as brilliant as young Koschei had been and he did not appreciate his imprisonment in the slightest. Over the decades he analysed the workings of the prison planet and determined that it was indeed impossible to escape from, unless you had help from the outside, and it just so happened that he was the only inmate to receive regular visitors.

There have been very few accounts of prisoners escaping from Shada, but the Master is the only one to have broken out on his own, taking advantage of the regular visits from the Psychologist to engineer this success. After killing the Psychologist and using his security clearance to access the Time Lord records he began his search for the one thing that had kept him going throughout his imprisonment: Theta Sigma.

After learning that Theta Sigma, now in his third life and calling himself the Doctor, had been captured and exiled to Earth he reacquired the Time Capsule, now widely referred to as TARDISes, that he had been given on his initial mission to apprehend the Doctorand took chase. Only after several months on Earth, slowly studying the Doctor's movements and building up a powerbase of his own, did the Master act, and the Doctor was finally informed of the true fate of Koschei Oakdown.

Three millennia had passed since then and the hatred was virtually gone. The conflict had gone much deeper than that, it was second nature, regardless of the revelations that they had both been tricked and manipulated by the founder of Gallifrey himself the Master was always aiming to conquer and to rule those that he saw as inferior and the Doctor would always try to stop him. Maybe one day they would stop this unending conflict, and settle down to retire how they had started, as friends, blood brothers, but not yet. Even after three thousand years the Darkheart remained fresh in their minds, and until that was forgiven and forgotten, their conflict could never end. Ever.

_[end of flashback]_

* * *

**Author's note: The event that finally seduced the Master to the dark side did involve a machine known as the Darkheart and ended with the Doctor imprisoning him in a black hole, this is just my interpretation of that event. If you research this you will find that it is described as a conflict with the second Doctor, but I am certain that this was not specified when I first came across it, and it works better for the story if it is a young Theta Sigma that it happens to. **

**The Master was also imprisoned on Shada, the only major difference being that (according the tardis wikia at least) the Time Lords deliberately released him on Earth to keep the Doctor busy, which doesn't really make sense to me and besides my way is more interesting.**


	15. Carpenter 4

Seeing the Master again always conjured up conflicting memories, happy times in the academy, growing up together, bunking off classes together, and joyriding TARDISes together; culminating in the tragic encounter at the Darkheart facility. For hundreds of years they had clashed and not once had either one of them brought any of this up, the Master seeming to prefer cool indifference. It was only after the Time War that he began acknowledging the past again, perhaps the near extinction bringing things into perspective; digging up the past to keep Gallifrey alive in his hearts.

Even with this though they were brought up with disdain, mocking the Doctor about happy days long lost, tormenting him over the lives that had been lost in the war, the destruction of Gallifrey at the Doctor's hands, and all the estates that the Master's family had once enjoyed. The drums, suppressed for centuries were back on the forefront, as if time had only made them worse, or maybe further torture over the happy days that they could no longer have. But still Darkheart remained unmentioned, as if it were taboo.

The Doctor stood up as straight as he could, trying to appear as if the drums now projected into his mind were of no consequence. This was his latest demonic delight, having discovered the true origin of the drums the Master had worked out a way to suppress them, in doing so forcing them into the mind of another for them to bear in his stead; and nothing delighted him more than to place them in the mind of his greatest foe, the Doctor.

Surveying the Master's new features the Doctor noted that despite the completely new body there were a few similarities to previous incarnations. He had a beard, for example, but not like the one of his thirteenth incarnation (the Master had been resurrected and given a new cycle of regenerations after this initial cycle had ended) that had been pointed and bushy, giving a sinister, devilish appearance, this was more like the one he had grown whilst living in the wastelands of Earth following a second reincarnation, and was short, framing his face, enhancing his handsome features. And his eyes, they were hazel but even with this difference in tone retained the same DNA signature, the same unique shape of pupils (so subtle that only a Time Lord could notice) and twinkled with the same devious glint that they always did. But it was one glaringly obvious new feature that the Doctor couldn't help but comment on.

"That is so unfair," he whinged.

"Come now Doctor," the Master scoffed, "you're not the only one allowed to sing. In fact I was doing it before you made it cool, so if anything, you're the one copying me."

"No, not that," the Doctor waved his had dismissively. "I mean the hair."

The Master blinked. "My hair?"

"You know I've always wanted to be ginger."

"Didn't do it on purpose," the Master held up his arms defensively. "I must say it makes a change to see you with a new face after so long with your previous one."

"Once upon a time it was me doing the changing while you remained in one continuous form," the Doctor reminisced. "Well more or less. Back in the good old days where your plans involved replacing the monarch with a shape changing android, for reasons I'm still uncertain about."

"Shest!" Broxa exclaimed. "He's in league with-"

"Shhh," the Doctor shushed calmly making her shut up instantaneously, much to her perplexion. "But you were the king's champion, a grand role, controlling the monarch himself. Now your just some odd-job man manipulating some random woman into randomly abducting people off the street, not your best role."

The Master blinked at this. "Odd-job man?"

The Doctor noted Mrs. Franklin just appearing behind the master. "So this is the Carpenter you spoke of?"

"Carpenter!" The Master rounded on Mrs. Franklin angrily. "You told him I was a carpenter!"

"Well you are a carpenter," she said uncertainly, slightly taken aback.

"No I'm not," he insisted. "I'm a master cabinet maker!"

The Doctor couldn't stop himself from bursting with laughter. "Pull the other one," he giggled. "Any idiot can tell you just made that up."

"Actually a master cabinet maker is a real job," a voice beside them stated.

The Doctor turned with a sigh, blinking at the fact the Previous was also tapping out the four beat rhythm with a miniature bongo drum in his hands. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Careful," Previous said with a smirk. "You're the only one who can see us."

"You certainly wouldn't want anyone to think you were mad," the eleventh Doctor added from the Doctor's other side, also playing the rhythm, except he was playing it on a tambourine. "Tambourine's are cool," he justified following the Doctor's questioning look.

The Master stood beside him and followed his line of sight, squinting as he stared straight through the eleventh Doctor at the blank wall behind him. "Looking for something?" He queried. "Your marbles?"

The Doctor turned back to him and tipped his hat back casually. "If you really must know one of my former incarnations is stood right there playing your infernal drum beat on the tambourine," he said casually.

The Master glanced back at the eleventh Doctor, though still completely unaware of his presence and shrugged. "Why not, we all have different coping methods."

"Master cabinet maker may be a real job title," the Doctor conceded, "but it's still a pretentious way of saying carpenter."

"It's not pretentious," the Master insisted.

"It doesn't matter," Mrs. Franklin said, completely missing the undertone of menace in his previous assertion. "They're both the same."

He rounded on her angrily. "They are not the same," he shouted. "A carpenter is an odd job man, like the Doctor said earlier, performing basic framing and finish work on wood."

"I would have thought that carpentry covers all areas of woodwork."

"That's the whole point!" The Master declared, giving the Doctor a look of triumph as he said this. "A master cabinet maker is a specialist. We build cabinets that simple carpenters can only dream of achieving."

"That's a bit harsh."

"I've just completed a very nice new kitchen for Mrs. Franklin here," the Master said smugly. "No hammer and nails, just solid joints. Thirty years or so down the line you will want to redo it but the builders who come in to demolish it won't be able to."

"Oh don't be ridiculous."

"Well obviously they will be able to, they'll just find it very difficult."

The Doctor chuckled for a moment. "So this is your grand plan? Build bespoke wooden furniture that could withstand a nuclear blast whilst telling your customers that I'm the cause of all their woes. Bit heartless, taking advantage of this poor woman's missing daughter, making her believe that I had something to do with it. That's low, even by your standards."

"Come now Doctor," the Master smirked, "we both know that you had everything to do with it."

"Look the game's up, you can stop pretending now."

"You kidnapped my daughter, raped and killed her," Mrs. Franklin snarled. "You may be laughing now, but we will make you face justice."

"You've run out of ideas haven't you!" The Doctor exclaimed triumphantly. "There is no plot to take over the universe. You're just here to annoy me, declare your hatred of me, whilst introducing the new Lucy Saxon who, unlike Lucy Saxon, you will enjoy genuine happy times together, and join you in your hatred of me. You'll sit in the garden looking up at the stars at night and go: this garden really needs sorting out doesn't it dear, look at all those weeds, the tree needs pruning. But she doesn't even have any secateurs! You'll have to pop down to Homebase, or B&Q and get a pair whilst obtaining some shears, and looking at a new colour to paint this bedroom. Who still has ingrained wallpaper for crying out loud! Word of advice there, Homebase's organisation of the paint makes no sense whatsoever, you go in looking for some Crown paint, for example, you discover a tiny section in one row, which doesn't have the colour you are looking for, reluctantly decide on one of these colours and then discover there's more Crown paint in another aisle. Its dotted all over the place with no logical order; although this could just be the store in-"

"Are you trying to annoy us, or does your mind genuinely work like that?" The Master cut in.

"Well, I haven't taken advantage of your distraction to tie your shoelaces," he grinned in response.

"He's completely mad, Richard," Mrs. Franklin said nervously.

"What more proof do you want," the Doctor added, "even your pseudonym is rubbish. Where's the clever anagram in Richard... What's the surname again."

"Underwood," the Master replied, emphasising the word heavily.

"Oh," a light bulb suddenly went off in the Doctor's brain. "That is quite clever, actually. But not exactly anything masterly or sinister, that's just a link back to Gallifrey that many people will miss."

"This isn't about me," the Master growled.

"It's about me isn't it," the Doctor sighed. "Look I've never met this Zara girl, give it a rest. I've got a Kamelion to catch, and I don't have time to waste with you or one of your silly pranks. It was fun, you fooled me, ha ha. Now can I leave now?"

"You certainly cannot!" Mrs. Franklin exclaimed. "You are a murderer and a rapist and we are going to make you-"

"Shh," the Master softly shushed her and she went silent just like Broxa had done moments earlier. They both stared mutely as the Master took a few paces towards the Doctor, scrutinising him carefully. "You really have no idea what I am talking about, do you," he stated.

"None whatsoever."

"How did you know her name," the Master challenged.

"She told me," the Doctor pointed.

The Master turned back to Mrs. Franklin with a completely even expression. As his head turned back he caught sight of Broxa, mutely observing the exchange on the balls of her feet, poised to act at any moment, for the first time and paused to scrutinise her.

"What is it?" He questioned. "Its not human. Very similar, but not right."

"_She_," the Doctor replied, "is an ancient Mondasian."

The Master spun around clutching his head. "No, no, no, no, no," he muttered. "That isn't right."

"Hey, I'm allowed to have a companion that isn't human every now and again," the Doctor said defensively. "I've even had men occasionally."

The Master straightened up in a flash and rounded on the Doctor. "How old are you?" He demanded.

"The same age as you are," the Doctor replied with a bemused expression on his face. "Speak plainly, Master."

"No, tell me your exact age right this second."

"Oh, I don't know," the Doctor shrugged. "Around three thousand."

"You need to be more specific."

"Um, three thousand..."

"Yes," the Master said insistently. "And..."

"I'm thinking!" The Doctor pondered for a few seconds, then his face lit up. "Three thousand, one hundred and twenty six." The Master turned away, clutching his head and swearing profusely. "It's ok, I gave up expecting birthday cards from you centuries ago."

"I'm a hundred years older than you," the Master shouted.

"Pull the other one."

"You're positive about that age? You haven't miscalculated or anything?" The Doctor shook his head. "You haven't accidentally skipped ahead on your personal time line?"

"Nope," the Doctor shook his head slowly, suddenly understanding what the Master was getting so wound up about.

The Master rounded on Mrs. Franklin. "You stupid woman!" He roared. "You've brought him here too soon."

"Well that explains everything," the Doctor clapped his hands together. "Well, I suppose I had better get out of here," the Doctor turned towards the window. "Let you return to your proper time line and see you in a hundred years, I'll put it in my diary... in fact I'll buy a diary then I can put it in that. Argh!" He recoiled and lurched as the drum beat increased in volume, each beat now sending a shooting pain through his consciousness. He clutched at his head and dropped to his knees, completely immobilised by this psychic attack.

"You're not going anywhere," the Master snarled.

Broxa growled and leaped forwards, brandishing the Doctor's golden knife. She was taken by surprise when the Master casually jabbed a finger into her chest, freezing her in her tracks. She gasped in pain as he held his finger in the pressure point but was completely powerless to move any muscle to free herself. He grinned manically as a look of fear and panic came across her face.

"If I can stop you now, then it can only mean you will not be around to stop me in the future," he declared gleefully. "Simple logic, why would I let you go knowing you will return in a few seconds much wiser, and with the knowledge to defeat me, when I can stop you now at your weakest."

"You can't," the Doctor moaned, gritting his teeth in pain. "All that stuff I'm supposed to have done, it hasn't happened yet. You'll stop it from happening. You'll change history."

"We are not subject to the laws of time," the Master declared. "They are subject to us!"

"You'll create a paradox," the Doctor pleaded. "You'll release the Reapers again."

"No I won't," the Master giggled. "That's the whole plan! I will activate the paradox machine to end all paradoxes, and then all of time will be subject to my will. I'll be the Master, of everything, and no one will try to stop me, because nobody will even know it has happened!"

Everything had gone completely wrong, the Master had them completely at his mercy, Broxa immobilised with Venusian Karate and he under the oppression of the drums. Mrs. Franklin was watching with interest, completely clueless as to what was really going on yet showing absolutely no indication of wanting it to stop. He attempted to reflect the drums back at the Master but he had never been very skilled psychically, relying on touch in order to focus properly, whereas the Master was brilliant, easily swatting away all of his attacks. He had been beaten.

The Master suddenly gasped and leaped backwards, releasing Broxa from his touch who collapsed to the floor with a gasp, clutching at her chest, just as a steel bolt flew past his head and embedded itself in the wall behind him. The volume of the drums meant that the Doctor hadn't heard the window smashing as the bolt sailed through it. He turned towards the window to see a steel wire, presumably attached to the bolt in the wall, trail out the window. Ever so slowly a pistol appeared on the end of the wire, reeling it in and slowly pulling its owner up into the room.

The owner of the gun was revealed to be a young woman with short cropped brown hair, dressed in a dull bronze uniform that the Doctor had never thought he would see again. His eyes widened as he recognised the woman, bending her right knee as she bounded over the sill, left leg swinging round, remaining completely straight as she did this, in an unmistakable manner. A flick of her thumb and the wire ceased retracting, keeping hold of the pistol she quickly unholstered a second, much bulkier one and pointed it at the Master's chest.

"Sergeant Huntington!" The Doctor finally spluttered.

She briefly turned her bright blue eyes on the Doctor and raised an eyebrow. "I really need to stop being so sceptical," she muttered, cocking the bulky pistol. "One false move and I shoot."

"Ooh," the Master grinned, "very scary."

"Hands away from your pockets!" The Sergeant barked.

The Master whipped his arms away from his side, holding them up almost mockingly. "Now this is unexpected," he said. "But you're not the only one with a companion to aid you. Get her Jenny."

"What?" Mrs. Franklin blinked in surprise.

"You move an inch and I shoot him," the Sergeant cautioned.

"I can take it," the Master declared. "Get her, now!"

"She'll shoot you!" She cried.

"She isn't shooting anyone," he sighed. "As if you would let someone travel with you who was allowed to kill somebody." He lowered his arms and took a step towards the Sergeant.

In response she swiftly fired a shot at the floor, barely missing his feet and causing him to jump backwards.

"I may not be allowed to kill you," the Sergeant said coldly. "But that doesn't mean I won't shoot. I'll try not to kill you outright, but I'm not an expert on your biology so I may get it wrong and bypass your regeneration. Are you willing to risk it?" For the first time the Master's mask of smug confidence slipped. "Well get out of here then!" She snapped at the still immobile forms of the Doctor and Broxa.

"She's not pointing the gun at you, Jennifer," the Master said through gritted teeth.

"But, but," Mrs. Franklin stuttered.

"Just do it!" he growled. "I can take it!"

"Why are you just standing there then?" The Doctor challenged. "Take matters into your own hands, or are you scared?"

"I'm not afraid," the Master snarled and then suddenly grinned, an idea occurring to him. "I don't even need to move to prevent you from leaving."

The Doctor screamed as the drumming stepped up yet another level, recoiling from the window and clutching at his head.

"Doctor!" Broxa cried, starting to climb back into the room.

"No, I'll be fine," he said through gritted teeth.

"Try climbing out of the window now," the Master challenged gleefully.

The Doctor staggered back to the window, grabbing the frame with both arms to steady himself. It was painful, and strangely addictive, before he knew it he was tapping in time to the rhythm. All the things in his mind: the Kamelion, the mysterious appearance of Sergeant Huntington, escaping from the Master. All that seemed unimportant, compared to this tantalising rhythm, echoing in his soul.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. He twisted towards the hand's owner. "Xessing concentrate," Broxa said forcefully.

He nodded at her, pushing the drums as far back as he could. But it was so tempting to just give in to it, the more he resisted the more painful it would get, surely. It would be so much easier to allow it to take over again. But as he gazed down at Broxa, hanging out of the window, he was instantly reminded of Dominica, hanging from the balcony, moments before Koschei shot her.

He jerked away from the window and clutched at his forehead as a fresh wave of pain shot through his mind. Exhaling heavily through his nose he shouted: "Get out of my head."

The Master chuckled lightly at this display. "You see Sergeant, whatever your name was, I hold him completely in my thrall," he taunted. "The drums that once held me now follow my every whim, and the Doctor must now fight the battle that I fought every day. He is not as strong as I am though, he will not last long, and then he will be just like me."

"Oh shut it, you smug git!" The Sergeant snapped. She flicked another switch on her grappling hook pistol and finally released the bolt it was attached to and reeled the wire back in like lightning. As this happened she whipped the pistol round causing the wire to crack into the side of the Master's face, the force of the blow sending him sprawling.

The Doctor instantly straightened up, the psychic attack lessening. "Good shot," he complimented.

"Can we go now," Broxa complained.

"Of course," the Doctor turned back to the window and stared down at the ground far below. "You know, it is a tad high, why don't we take the stairs instead."

"No," the Sergeant stated and shoved him the chest. He screamed as he toppled through the smashed window and tumbled to the ground.

Broxa did a double take, glancing at the Doctor below and then the Sergeant. "Wicked," she grinned, and started to descend.

"I could have broken something you know!" The Doctor called up.

The Sergeant ignored him turning back to see the Master clutching at the side of his face as Mrs. Franklin crouched at his side to comfort him. Deciding he was no longer a threat she swung her stiff left leg over the window frame, fired another grappling bolt into the ceiling and leaped backwards through the window, using the trailing wire to abseil down the side of the house.

"Stop them!" The Master roared. But it was too late, they were already gone and putting a steadily increasing distance away from him.

He barely noticed Mrs. Franklin's words of comfort, for with every step the Doctor took the more difficult it became to keep the drums firmly placed in his mind. Already they were flooding back, hammering painfully into his consciousness. Normally he could handle the pain, he had managed with it for three millennia after all, but it was flooding back too quickly. With the Doctor's departure the drums had nowhere to go, other than back to its original home, the Master's mind, and it did so gleefully, happily blowing away the Master's normally impregnable defences.

He screamed in pain and fear, the fear of losing the control he had worked so hard to maintain. In a frantic bid to relieve the pressure he channelled it into Mrs. Franklin's mind, causing her to recoil and clutch at her head in pain.

"What is that?" She cried out. "Richard, help!"

He ignored her, all his attention focused on controlling the flood. "It's not enough, no!" He exclaimed. Mrs. Franklin's human mind was too inferior to hold much of the psychic energy, the Master still felt the full brunt of its return; and there was nowhere else for it to go.

Mrs. Franklin breathed a sigh of relief as the drumming ceased, but it quickly turned to alarm as she noticed the Master curled up in a ball, hands completely covering his head. "Oh my God, Richard!"

Completely unaware of the true origins of the drums, assuming it had been an attack of some kind by the Doctor or that soldier woman, she made her final mistake in putting a comforting arm around his shoulders. The Master exploded into movement, throwing her off him and grabbing her by the throat.

"You stupid ape!" He roared. His tone completely unlike the charming Richard Underwood she had fallen in love with, filled with venomous anger and contempt. His previously neat hair was tossled by his attempted to alleviate the pain of the drums, wildly sticking out at every angle; matching the wild look in his eyes.

"I didn't think it was possible for even a species as pathetic as you to cock up so badly," he spat, lifting her into the air with inhuman strength. "But bringing my enemy here, one hundred years too early, giving him forewarning of this whole stratagem? You're incompetence amazes me."

"Richard," she pleaded.

"Oh I'm sorry," the Master giggled. "The one you call Richard isn't here right now. The feedback from the drums returning was too much for him to control, so now I have control. Aren't you lucky!"

"You're hurting me," Mrs. Franklin croaked, eyes wide out of fear.

The Master snorted, then burst into an hysterical fit of giggles. "And your point being?" He questioned, grinning from ear to ear.

* * *

**Author's note: I have been really struggling with exams recently, hence the continued lateness of these reviews, but they will be over tomorrow and I will be able to return to my original schedule... hopefully. I had intended to finish this much later, with a bit of alone time with Sergeant Huntington, exploring her back story a bit and explaining her part in the story, but the whole thing would have been too long.**

**This is certainly my favourite chapter to write so far, almost certainly helping me to get through the stress of my exams, I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it.**


End file.
